A Broken Silence
by Reverberating Winds
Summary: Orihime feels forlorn and lifeless, drained. Ulquiorra wants to find out what's making her so sad. He gets under her skin and attempts to make her feel better. Will something else happen? UlquiHime.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Paradigm Change

I'm just retarded. I don't really like this pairing, but…heh, why not.

Disclaimer: Not f----ng mine.

* * *

The silence reverberated off the white walls. It encompassed everything in the small little room Orihime was in. And, slowly, but surely, it had swallowed her too. 

Two months had passed since she had been captured and brought to Las Noches. Though the small window in her room gave way to sunlight, she still felt very much like she had been plunged into a deep darkness, a midnight vision. She felt hypnotized, but hypnotized by horror and silence.

Two months had drastically changed Orihime. Her glossy hair lost its shine and body, and now hung limply down by her waist. Her skin was pale, she was very thin, and was bearing a sickly appearance. Not that anyone there, in the citadel, really cared, that she looked anorexic. Partly was her own fault. Orihime refused to eat, and only ate when she thought she would die. That was the only thing keeping her alive. She was, indeed, pining away at the clutches of the silence and darkness she was deep in. Every single day, of those two months, she would sit and look out the window, as if expecting her friends to come and save her.

But they hadn't yet. And she was losing hope the way she was losing life-- slowly, but surely.

Orihime became very bored in the blank room, and only wrung her hands. She had begun that habit about a week into being kept in her cell. The first two weeks, Orihime was still herself. Asking her guard, Ulquiorra, random, childish questions, and poking and prodding him-- he had quickly put an end to that-- and, she was entertained. But now…both of them refused to talk. Orihime avoided Ulquiorra's acidic gaze and stared at the white floor. When you ask a question…whether it's to yourself, or to the person in front of you…are you supposed to get silence as your answer? Orihime had been wondering this for some time now. She hadn't talked in days. Then she heard a noise-- she was all too familiar with it-- the sounds of her door opening, and Ulquiorra's quiet, smooth footsteps coming into her room, breaking the silence.

"I brought your food."

Orihime noticed. The scent that filled the air nearly knocked her out. How she longed for something to enjoy. But, she would not take it. Not from him, not from Aizen.

"I don't want it." he whispered. Her eyes focused on her pale hands, wrapping around each other.

Silence from Ulquiorra.

"You're sadder than usual today, woman." Ulquiorra observed hardheartedly.

Orihime had grown used to his icy, brisk way of speaking. But even so, his tone made her hair bristle.

Orihime didn't reply.

Ulquiorra came closer to her, so he was standing right in front of Orihime. Orihime tried to hide the fact she was almost shivering, and refused to look up into his jade eyes.

"Woman, eat."

"I don't want to."

Ulquiorra bent down so he was eye level with her. Orihime couldn't ignore him this time, seeing that was only about six inches away from her. She suddenly became colder, only because of him. Another thing he wondered was that, why is he the only Arrancar that seems to lack warmth in such a drastic measure?

"Very well, then." Ulquiorra said, standing upright and leaving her food on her white couch. "I won't leave until you eat."

"Then I'll die."

Ulquiorra sighed softly.

He sat down about a foot or two away from her, and got the plate of food. He shoved it onto her lap. Orihime stared at it for a while. Ulquiorra saw her fists clench and unclench, and her frown deepened. Though he hid it well, Ulquiorra was quite amused with the human. Especially when she was angry. Orihime sat there for a long time. She made a move with her hand to pick up her fork, but no. She didn't pick up the fork. Orihime took the plate in her hands jerkily, held the plate above her head, and using what little strength she had, threw it hard across the room. It splattered and shattered on the opposite wall, leaving a stain that strangely resembled blood. Orihime, after seeing that she had just thrown what kept her alive away, burst into tears and began sobbing uncontrollably into her hands.

Ulquiorra scooted away from her. An expression of mild surprise swept over his face.

"I told you to eat. What is troubling you?" he asked. His voice held no concern; it seemed he was expecting the usual answer about not having her friends with her.

"Everything!" she cried.

Ulquiorra stood up. He didn't reply, just watched the pathetic girl racking with a sort of nostalgic grief. He didn't know what to do with her.

"I'll get you some more food."

"No!" she shrieked. "I don't want to die yet! Aizen will be mad at me!"

"I'll be back."

Orihime jumped off the couch and blocked the door from him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't! Ulquiorra, please, no! I don't want anything!" Orihime screamed.

Ulquiorra studied her, ignoring the fact she had just called him by his first name. Gasping for breath and crumpling in front of the door, was the girl that just a month ago would've been eating and asking her questions about candy. It was a little disturbing, if looked at from a normal person's point of view. This display struck no emotions in Ulquiorra, but his curiosity had piqued a little. Humans were so complicated; he knew he'd never come close to understanding one.

Orihime raised her tearstained face to Ulquiorra's statuesque one, and held his eyes briefly before returning to wringing her hands. Tears soaked them. Ulquiorra sighed quietly, and bent down to see her better.  
"Woman. What is troubling you so?"

Orihime couldn't reply; she shook her head viciously instead.

"Fine. I'll wait until you can speak."

Ulquiorra sat there quietly with an unnatural amount of patience. It must've been an hour or so before she regained the ability to speak. Yet he didn't mind, and simply waited. He wanted an answer, but how good of an answer he would get Ulquiorra did not know. Orihime's wails became soft sobs, and her eyes no longer were a faucet of tears. They still leaked tears, but she could at least talk. She raised her face, and looked at Ulquiorra warily. Ulquiorra returned her look with his typical icy stare.

"What is troubling you? I noticed it when I first walked in. You're much sadder that usual."

Orihime sniffled.

"My surmise is that you miss your friends, like you always do."

"That too," she squeaked. "But that's not the main issue. It's too…too quiet in here! I never get to do anything, it's so dead! You're too dead! Until today, I hadn't talked for a week."

Orihime held back sobs. Once again, tears fell into her lap thickly. She was only partially aware of Ulquiorra flicking them off her face, with a different look on his face that she had never seen before.

"Continue," he said quietly.

"Well, I feel empty. Hollow, like you." At this, Ulquiorra scowled lightly. It wasn't an angry look, either. "There's nothing here. Or here." Orihime pointed to her heart, and bit her lip. "I can't live like this. Am I in a pool of black or in your actual citadel? Is it just me…or is this place truly hell?"

Ulquiorra blinked.

"It depends on how you look at it, Orihime." Orihime had never heard him say her name before, and now that she had heard it, she'd always remember it. The way he said it…was that…with love? Or was she just hallucinating? She brushed her thoughts away, and turned her attention to Ulquiorra. "For you, one who has been surrounded by friends and living pleasantly, this is much like hell. But you have lived through hellish times, before. I recall you telling me about your brother? Dying, and turning into a Hollow, no? Attacking you."

Orihime nodded. So, he did listen…

"And surely this place must remind you of those times, where you were left alone to care for yourself. You were quite young, and those incidents leave large marks that never heal completely, and will become infected when touched well enough. Las Noches opens up your wounds, Orihime. They're becoming infected, because no one can seal them up, there's nothing here to keep your thoughts off the emptiness inside you. The sorrow your wound kept inside is staining your happiness. Am I right?"

Orihime, her mouth hanging open slightly, nodded. She was fully conscious of Ulquiorra wiping more of her tears away.

"You never wanted to return to this, and here you have no one…" Ulquiorra looked down, and saw she was wringing her hands again. He quickly pulled them apart, and held them in her lap. But not forcefully. Orihime was tempted to hold his tightly. She did.

"You don't have anyone here…but me."

Orihime looked up, and saw that Ulquiorra's typically apathetic and unfeeling expression had softened. He didn't smile, and was very serious about what he was talking about. But his eyes held something else in them, but whatever it was, Orihime could not put her finger on it. It made her cry all over again.

"Orihime."

"I'm sorry, I can't stop…"

"It's not that. If you ever need a shoulder…you can use mine." he said in a voice just above a whisper. His words rang through her mind. It was what occupied the silence now. Was he serious? Orihime stared at him.

Ulquiorra was serious. His firm expression said it all.

"Ulquiorra…can I call you that?"

"Yes."

"Can I…?"

Ulquiorra sighed. "If you must."

Orihime couldn't help it. This was the first time anyone had been so nice to her since before she left for Hueco Mundo. And, it felt good to throw her arms around Ulquiorra and sob into his shoulder. The familiar feeling she had felt before, two months ago, came rushing back to her in huge waves. She felt so much better clinging onto Ulquiorra's strong, cold frame. Ulquiorra, as she expected, was very stiff and hard when she had collapsed onto him in tears. But he stayed to his words, and didn't move until she had calmed down a bit. It was then she felt her hair being pulled back.

And then the two found each other in an awkward situation.

Orihime didn't want to pull back. Ulquiorra did, but broke the embrace gently, by taking her hands in his and putting them down by her side. Orihime pulled back eventually, blushing.

"Don't expect that of me every day, woman." he said coldly, standing up.

Orihime stared at him. She hadn't ever seen anyone stand so seriously with a wet patch on their shoulder, or ever with such an emotionless and taciturn expression. He left Orihime in awe, and left her smiling.

Ulquiorra hadn't even opened the door to leave when she stopped him.

"Ulquiorra?"

"Yes, woman?"

"Thank you."

Ulquiorra's eye stayed on her for a bit longer, and then he left without a sound.

Orihime wasn't going to fight it. She knew that he had made her day.

* * *

Psh. I'm so mental. I only wrote this because…well…Ulquiorra's teh pwnsomest, and Orihime is sweet. Hope it wasn't OOC. Oh well. **Review or die. **JK JK JK JK. 

**OH! Tell me if you want to me continue it, because, if you do, I certainly will! JUST LET ME KNOW! **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Truthfulness

I don't own Bleach. I wished I owned Ulquiorra, but I don't. So screw that.

Thanks for reviewing, peeps. I thought you people would hate the story, but I guess not…

* * *

A pleasant little smile stayed on Orihime's face for the rest of the day. She no longer felt like she was drowning under darkness and the resounding silence of Las Noches. Ulquiorra came in several times later, to force food onto Orihime. He had tried twice, but she still wouldn't eat, to his bristling irritation. It was six thirty in the evening now, and Ulquiorra was back _again_ holding a full plate of tenderloin and vegetables. He pushed the door open, and walked into Orihime's room. But she was nowhere to be seen…

The couch had been moved, and the carpet was gone. Her bed had been stripped of sheets and pillows, and in general, the room looked very primitive.

"Woman, do not play games with me." Ulquiorra said, looking around with a scowl on his face. He honestly wondered what sort of game-- if it was a game-- that she had decided to play.

Silence; but Ulquiorra picked up a soft giggle from behind the couch.

"Woman. Come out."

Ulquiorra took a few steps deeper into the room, and began to finger his zanpakutou, like an involuntary reaction to her disappearance.

"Woman, playing games is a futile pastime. Come out right now." he commanded firmly. By now he was threatening to pull the Zanpakutou out, as one or two inches of the blade were already showing.

Ulquiorra was not the least bit shocked or surprised when Orihime jumped over the back of her couch, with a pillowcase over her face, roaring the best she could, arms out menacingly. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes none too discreetly.

"Woman--"

"Why aren't you calling me Orihime anymore?" she giggled, taking off her pillowcase.

"Because your name is not necessary in such circumstances."

"Yet I can still call you Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra didn't even bother to stop his frown from deepening.

"Yes, for it seems that you calling me that keeps you from becoming even more self-pitying than you already are." Ulquiorra replied. "I brought you some food. And this time you better eat it."

Orihime dumped herself on the couch.

"I don't want it." she pouted like a little girl.

Thought it had been hard to do, Ulquiorra's patience had thinned out.

"You will eat it," he said approaching her, "and you will like it."

"No." she said childishly.

Ulquiorra sat down next to her on the couch. He looked down at the food, and an image of him shoving it down her throat or jamming her face into the vegetables popped into his mind. He knew Aizen-sama would be beyond pissed if he did actually do that, but even so, the thought of doing so relieved him.

"Are you worried about poison?" Ulquiorra asked, giving her an irritated glance. She had eaten the food before, and was fine. He couldn't understand why she refused to eat it now. "I'll eat it first, if that's the case."

Orihime looked up at Ulquiorra, with what either disbelief or curiosity. Adding to his thin patience, Ulquiorra found himself trying to decipher the expression that had taken over her face.

"Hollows can eat?" she asked softly.

Ulquiorra wished he hadn't even tried to comfort her this morning. _What the hell got into me?_ He also realized how much more tolerant he was of Orihime when she was self-pitying and SILENT rather than happy and bouncy, thus he found it hard to resist wringing her neck. To keep his urges from taking control of him, he chomped on the inside of his cheek. _Such ignorance, _he thought.

"Yes, Arrancars eat, woman." Ulquiorra said in his usual demeanor, but with a nip of sarcasm very unlike him.

"Ohhh…" she looked at Ulquiorra wide eyed. "Can you taste?"

To answer her stupid question, Ulquiorra took the fork and jammed it into a piece of meat. He tried to ignore Orihime's wide eyed stare as he raised it to his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

"Tastes like meat, naturally."

He put another piece of meat on the fork, and held out the fork to Orihime. She stared at it with raptness, like she expected the fork to mutate into a frog. Ulquiorra sighed.

"Are you going to take it?"

"Wow…Hollow germs…"

Without even thinking, Ulquiorra took advantage of her hanging mouth. He slipped the fork in, made sure the meat was in her mouth, and put a hand over her mouth until she swallowed it. Orihime was taken aback by this. She shrieked and tried to pull his hand down from her mouth, but seeing what he was trying to do, obediently chewed and swallowed.

"Was that so hard?" he muttered, taking back the fork and piling it with vegetables.

"No…" Orihime said, repressing a smile. "I just had Hollow germs! Heehee!"

Ulquiorra rammed the vegetables into her mouth, and went though the same process as he did before.

"Do you have jelly?" Orihime asked.

"Woman, why do you ask for jelly?"

Ulquiorra didn't even bother shooting her a look. He continued to hoard more meat and vegetables on the fork for her.

"Well, won't green beans taste better with jelly?"

Ulquiorra had another sudden to urge: to throw up.

"That is absurd, disgusting, and repulsive." Ulquiorra said tightly. That was probably the farthest he could go without his stomach churning violently.

"It's actually quite good!" chortled Orihime. "Sweet and slightly--"

Ulquiorra silenced her forcefully with the almighty fork. If her heard more, he was positive the plate would be indeed be poisoned.

"Eat, woman. Do not talk."

"Can you please check if you have jelly?"

"No." Ulquiorra replied flatly and firmly.

"Okay…" pouted Orihime.

Ulquiorra shoved the plate onto her lap, and watched her eat. She ate rather quickly, he noticed. Orihime seemed to savor every little thing on the plate, and drank all the juice in the cup.

"You were very hungry." observed Ulquiorra, breaking the silence.

"Yeah." sighed Orihime. "I guess I was."

"You were."

Silence followed Ulquiorra's remark. Orihime started playing with her hands again, and Ulquiorra folded his arms and stared at the wall. Then a question came to his mind. He thought it over, and decided to ask it.

"Woman, what exactly were you doing before I entered?"

It was indeed noticeable, what Orihime had done to the room. Some things were missing, and it was all very haphazardly done. Ulquiorra, as expected, did not approve of it.

"Oh! I was playing that a monster was out to get me. I made a little fortress behind the couch! It's really cool."

"What a childish activity." Ulquiorra remarked with a sigh.

"It was fun." she added.

Silence came closely after once again. This silence, though, was much longer than the last, and held Orihime's last words in the air.

Though she did not know it, Orihime was being watched out of the corner of Ulquiorra's sharp eyes. He found her odd-- rather weird. He couldn't understand her. At all. He could understand, or figure out everything else with is sharp perception, but with Orihime, he couldn't quite get past the surface without asking questions, the way he liked it. So for now he'd just ignore her.

Orihime yawned.

"I'm tired." she said.

"How can you be tired after doing nothing all day?" Ulquiorra inquired, with a slight scowl.

"Boredom." Orihime replied.

"Very well, then, woman. I will leave."

Ulquiorra made a move to get up and go, but Orihime stopped him. She looked at him with her big deer eyes.

"Ulquiorra…I want to take a bath!" she exclaimed.

How one can be so random, Ulquiorra wished to know. He looked at her with what was almost disgust.

"I'm dirty…I can't get clean with that tiny bottle over there! My hair is so greasy, and I'm sure I smell bad--"

"You smell fine." Ulquiorra interrupted, brushing her hand off his knee, and getting off the couch. She did smell fine, and he knew because of the fact they were touching this morning.

"But Ulquiorra…" she whined, giving him her cutest little pout. "I don't feel clean."

Ulquiorra was beginning to become exasperated with her.

"Woman, you're fine--"

"Ulqui--"

"Do not interrupt me." Ulquiorra said sharply. That was probably the closest he'd ever get to 'exclaiming' something. He could already see Orihime's eyes welling up with tears, and her lower lip started quivering. To avoid a repeat of this morning, Ulquiorra quickly made up his mind.

"Woman, do not cry over such small things."

"But-but…I want to shower…" she whispered.

"Yes. Then I suppose you…may use the Espada's showers." Ulquiorra managed to force the words out of his mouth. Of course, he wouldn't ever let her use his own shower-- being Aizen-sama's favorite brings MANY rewards and benefits.

"Thanks, Ulquiorra!" cried Orihime, jumping up and hugging him tightly. Ulquiorra pushed her off the second she threw her arms around him, disgusted. He thought human touch was unnecessary, and well, nasty.

"Be quiet and don't touch anything as we go out. I don't know if Aizen-sama will approve of this…" Ulquiorra said stonily, holding the door open for Orihime.

"WOW! It's so--"

"Silence." hissed Ulquiorra.

Orihime stifled a giggle, and nodded. She followed Ulquiorra down the white, icy hallways with high vaulted ceilings. Each of their footsteps left a ringing echo on the cold hard tile. After going down up a flight of stairs, and going through more labyrinth-like hallways, Ulquiorra stopped in front of a pair of fairly large doors. Before he opened his mouth to talk, Orihime cut him off with her little questions.

"Ulquiorra, where is your room?"

"Such absurd questions." he murmured, giving Orihime a gentle push past the threshold. Orihime stumbled into a tiny room, with ten robes hanging on hooks. In front of her stood another door, leading to a large room. She clasped her hands and exclaimed "COOL!" when she saw the room. It was composed of the smooth white stone the rest of the citadel was made of. On one side, there were five sinks, each with a different toothbrush and random little things sitting there. And, on the corresponding side, the same row of sinks. In the middle, there was a little island; it had shelves. On it, towels of different sizes were folded neatly. In the other shelves, sat nicely wrapped pieces of soap, and other toiletries.

"Fascinating!" cried Orihime.

Ulquiorra sighed inwardly, and rolled his eyes.

"Woman, you're easily amused, aren't you?"

"It's so pretty in here!" she exclaimed. Orihime ran her finger along one of the faucets on the sinks, grinning.

"Come, woman." Ulquiorra beckoned with his finger. Orihime skipped over to him, and followed Ulquiorra.

"Can I see your room?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It isn't necessary."

Ulquiorra took a left, and Orihime followed. She found herself in a pretty room much like the previous one, but with large and spacious showers.

"How pretty!" squealed Orihime.

It was decorated nicely, with very sleek (and manly) colors and modern decorations. Orihime counted five showers.

"Where are the others?"

"Take a right instead of left in the fork, and that's where Espadas six through ten are. The left is one through five."

Orihime grinned widely at him.

"Which is one is your shower?" she asked curiously.

"Your questions annoy me, woman." he replied coldly.

"Can I guess?"

"You said you wanted to shower. Did I waste my time bringing you here?"

"I'll guess it's the one in that corner…"

"Woman." Ulquiorra said with hostility. "Get in a shower and then get out. Do not waste my time. Go get a towel, and then shower."

"Okay!"

Orihime skipped out of the room. Ulquiorra followed, just to make sure she didn't do anything that clearly expressed her stupidity. He watched her keenly as she got a few towels, and soaps. But then she suddenly walked out, and returned later holding a very large robe.

"It's so big and fluffy. I wonder if your robe is big and fluffy as this one…"

Orihime said, hugging it to her chest.

"It isn't."

Ulquiorra wasn't going to add that his wasn't so big (but much fluffier) because the one Orihime was holding belonged to Yami. She clearly should've figured that out by a simple glance.

"Oh. That's sad." Orihime remarked, walking past him into the showers.

"Get in."

"Which one should I get into?" Orihime asked, with a wide-eyed curious gaze at him to match.

Ulquiorra took a guess that the cleanest one would be the one he never used, due to the fact he had his own bathroom in his room. Ulquiorra pointed to one in the corner. Orihime skipped in, and closed the door.

Ulquiorra was just going into a thoughtful stupor when something fell on him, over his eyes. He pulled whatever had fallen over his face, and studied it at arms length. What he held was Orihime's dress. With a slight "ugh", he tossed it across the room.

"Woman, watch where you throw your clothing--"

Another piece, though one much lighter than the other, fell on his again. He pulled it off, studied it, cringed, and threw it over where her dress was. He tried to get the image of her pink spotted underwear out of his head, but so far it wasn't working, and he felt a strange feeling creep up his face.

"Woman…" he said threateningly. If Orihime thought this was funny, he certainly didn't. Being bombarded by underwear was not his idea of fun. Not that anything was really fun for him, but…

"Sorry!" chirped Orihime.

He heard a soft rustle, and a snap. To his fury, something else fell on his head seconds later. But when he pulled it off his head…he dropped it out of shock. Of course, his expression didn't give expression didn't give away too much, his eyes were slightly wider than usual, but it was what he was holding that really told his story.

"Orihime, watch where you throw your things." Ulquiorra said darkly. He threw her bra back over the shower door.

She giggled.

"I'm sorry-- YAY, you called me Orihime again!"

"Get showering, woman." Ulquiorra said through gritted teeth.

He heard the water begin to run-- meaning; he could think about his own things and not have to worry about her. A sudden thought jumped into his mind. He figured Orihime would find a way to drown herself in there. He brushed off the thought, and fell into a semiconscious state, brooding.

Thirty minutes later, the water was still running. It didn't bother Ulquiorra, but he wanted to be free from her once and for all. At least, for the night…

"Woman, hurry up." he said over the rush of the water.

The water stopped.

"I will be outside. Please be quick."

Ulquiorra strode out of the area and waited near the sinks, so she could have some privacy. Unlike Grimmjow and Noitora, Ulquiorra had morals, are therefore did not want to hang around to spy on the prisoner. While he waited, Ulquiorra questioned his own conscience. What, he wondered, gave him the impulse to allow up on the top story-- with anyone being lower ranked than Espada forbidden-- and shower in the Espada's fancy bathrooms? Was he becoming possessed? Ulquiorra hated to think that, but it was the best reason he had for being so nice to her. That, or the food he had eaten was spiked. He preferred to think the latter…seeing it was a more agreeable thought. Ulquiorra didn't know if treating her the way he treated Orihime, coldly, would be considered nice, even after the mornings events, but he frowned at recalling the strange feeling he felt when Orihime had thrown her underwear on him. Obviously, he knew it was on accident, but he felt like it was his fault for standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. He thought it was simply wrong to even have comforted the girl this morning. But, Ulquiorra knew that what he had done was done, and he couldn't reverse it, no matter how much he wished he could do. After thinking it thoroughly (Orihime was taking a long time), Ulquiorra came up with the most sensible conclusion: that he had decided to pamper her for her powers to be better. Okay, perhaps it wasn't the best he could come up with. But at least it tied in with what Aizen-sama wanted from her. Ulquiorra took five minutes convincing himself that was the sole reason he had shown her more than darkness.

"Ulquiorra!"

Ulquiorra was knocked out of his swirling, unstable thoughts as Orihime's high pitched voice broke the silence. He looked up from the floor. His first thought was how ridiculous she looked in Yami's robe, being at least twenty five sizes too big for her, but his second thought was that she looked…well, healthy, and happy.

"You take too long, woman." Ulquiorra stated coldly.

Orihime cocked her head and smiled at him.

"I was drying off really well. Hey, Ulqui-chan…"

Ulquiorra was shocked to hear his name mangled like that. Whoever gave her permission to address him so familiarly, and with such a ridiculous nickname?

"Woman, I never gave you any permission to address me in such a disrespectful manner. Ulquiorra is the farthest you'll get." he said decisively.

Orihime looked sad.

"Okay, okay…hey, Ulquiorra?"

"What?"

"What about pajamas? I have no clothing with now except for this robe." Orihime pointed out.

To his chagrin, Orihime had a point. A point that kept poking him, reminding him of the truth. Ulquiorra could barely mask his scowl.

"'Pajamas'?" Ulquiorra echoed.

"Yeah, you know, comfy clothes to sleep in…" Orihime added. "Don't you wear pajamas?"

_Why does she have to ask such thoughtless questions?_

"Woman, I do not think that there are pajamas here." Ulquiorra said, tipping his head slightly.

"Oh…then can I borrow something of yours?" Orihime asked politely, sinking into a small curtsy. Ulquiorra found no purpose for her little curtsy, but simply overlooked it. He was becoming accustomed to her…odd habits, but was still heavily annoyed by her.

Ulquiorra sighed, and closed his eyes.

"…I suppose you must. Very well, woman, follow me. Stay quiet."

Ulquiorra beckoned her closer with his finger, and Orihime came close to him, right by his side. Ulquiorra took a few steps away from her, but she seemed to not notice.

They exited the bathroom silent as shadows. Once they did, Ulquiorra took a right. Orihime was looking around nervously, like she expected an assault. Ulquiorra tried to ignore her, but his own curiosity got the best of him.

"What is it now, Orihime?"

"You called me Orihime again…well, it's scary here."

"Don't complain." Ulquiorra said shortly.

Orihime took longer strides to catch up to Ulquiorra's pace. She wondered why he walked so quickly, and he wondered why she walked so slowly, like time wasn't slipping out from under her. They did indeed have different ways of thinking.

The only sound were their everlasting footsteps, the echo held in the vaults above them, and the whisper of Orihime's-- Yami's-- bathrobe being dragged on the ground. Ulquiorra took a few more turns, and headed straight for the end of hallway. Orihime could see a pair of large, white doors.

"Is that your room?" she asked, awed.

Ulquiorra nodded. He pushed the door open. From what Orihime could see, with the little slit of light from outside, was same tile as the rest of the citadel. She dreamed of what magnificent things would be lit up once Ulquiorra flicked the switch. The lights flickered on chandelier above, casting a bright glow over everything in the room. Orihime gasped.

"Is it that fascinating, woman?"

"It's…yes…" she sighed dreamily. Orihime's eyes fell upon his bed before anything else. It was huge, and looked very plushy. At least ten pillows were placed neatly on his bed, and the sheets looked of high quality. They were very smooth and sleek, from what she could tell. Her eyes then drifted to a tall, large bookcase lining one wall of his room. She made out books that were extremely thick, thicker then she was. Her mouth was hanging open now. In a corner, fancy desk with a laptop open sat, almost beckoning her with the executive chair turned at a slight angle toward it. The decorations were very interesting; his room was just…beautiful.

"I figured your room would look like this!" Orihime exclaimed. "It's very you."

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow.

"Think what you want, woman."

Orihime didn't notice Ulquiorra open another door and step inside. She was focused on what sat on a coffee table. Orihime skipped over to his couch, and sat on it. She took a few seconds to sink into it, and then leaned forward to inspect what sat on the table. It appeared to be a cell phone. Orihime, wide eyed, poked it. Nothing happened…naturally. The cell phone seemed beat up, but not very old at all. Orihime poked it again, harder.

"You really are easily amused. That's Grimmjow's."

Ulquiorra's long arm swept over her shoulder, as he leaned forward and took the phone. Orihime, slightly surprised, looked over her shoulder and up into Ulquiorra's jade green eyes.

"Why do you have Grimmjow's celly?" she asked curiously.

Ulquiorra threw the phone over his shoulder carelessly, and it fell somewhere with a clatter. It must've shattered.

"You have pretty eyes." Stated Orihime.

Ulquiorra ignored her remark, and put something on her lap.

"There. That should work." Ulquiorra said, pointing to the neatly folded clothing sitting on her lap. Orihime grinned.

"It's so pretty!" she sighed, and rubbed it against her cheek affectionately.

"Orihime, hurry up and put it on." commanded Ulquiorra. He turned around. "It's late."

"Okay!" she replied.

He was relieved to hear the crackling of clothes instead of something shattering. He himself couldn't just see why she had such an impact on his thoughts. He hated her…

"Heehee!"

Ulquiorra turned around. He frowned at the sight in front him, and shook his head.

Orihime stood, waving her arms around, the sleeves flying. The shirt was too big on her, and sagged. She was holding the hakama up with one hand, and, well, she looked very pathetic, at least in Ulquiorra's eyes.

"That will do for now. Now, I'll escort you back to your room."

Ignoring Orihime's piercing complaints, Ulquiorra pushed her out of his room, and dragged her back to her cell. But just at the door, before he led her in, Orihime stopped. She looked up at Ulquiorra with big, shiny eyes, expectantly.

"Woman--"

Ulquiorra was cut off as her arms squeezed his last breath out of him abruptly. Though he struggled, Orihime wouldn't not let go of him. If he could reach his zanpakutou…a pool of blood would've already replaced her. She leaned her head against his chest, giggling softly.

Then Ulquiorra felt that odd feeling again, but this time it was a little more intense than last time. It was a mix between sweltering on the outside, and melting on the inside. He felt sick, suddenly, and faint, but he couldn't explain why, much less how or what this was. _What is this?_

He took a quick gasp of air.

"Orihime…"

"Just a few more seconds…" Orihime squeezed tighter. Ulquiorra found his hands and fingers becoming numb. Finally, Orihime let go, leaving Ulquiorra to catch his breath discreetly.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra."

"Sleep, woman." he said curtly, holding the door open for her.

"Sweet dreams, Ulqui-chan!"

Ulquiorra didn't even bother to correct her. He simply turned on his heel, and walked quickly to his room, pondering deeply the days events, and finding himself one hundred percent guilty. He knew he wouldn't sleep well tonight.

* * *

Review…PLEASE. It'll ease the pain of having braces. I got them on yesterday, and I get them for 3 years! Review to ease my pain or die. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Odd Incidents

Not mine

* * *

Orihime woke up to blazing beam of sunlight piercing the cold air in cell. But, whatever had happened, it was really cold in there. It was mid December, but yesterday the temperature wasn't like this. It wasn't exactly warm, but livable. Orihime was shivering under the sheets. She wondered what time it was. Orihime guessed, by the shaft of light pouring into her room, that it maybe ten thirty, maybe eleven. But it wasn't the cold that bothered her. It was Ulquiorra. Where was he? By now food should've been sitting on her table. But there was nothing. Orihime decided to get out of bed. She pulled on her robe (which is actually Yami's) and walked over to the door, putting her ear against it. She heard nothing, but the usual echo. Orihime sighed, and rested her hand on the doorknob. Suddenly, her hand slipped, and the door opened. She collapsed into the hallway with a stifled shriek and tried to grasp what had happened.

Orihime, mouth hanging open, looked around. She was outside the cell…laying on the freezing tile…the door was wide open…and she was…free? Thoughts of what to do rushed into her head. Should she go back inside, go explore, look for Ulquiorra, or run away? Back to her friends? Orihime knew that if she tried to run away, she'd be stopped or stumped before getting far enough. She was hungry, and missed Ulquiorra's presence, so she didn't want to go back into the cell…

"I'll look for Ulquiorra…" she whispered to herself, getting up. Only problem was the size of the citadel. She didn't remember how to get to him room, it was too confusing. And the chances of being caught were very high, especially if she went up to the top story, where all the Espada resided. Even so, Orihime tried to remember which stairs he took, and how many flights. But no matter what, the palace looked the same. White, echo-y, and cold. Orihime tiptoed to the nearest stairs, and took them. Okay, so she was on the second story…three more stories to go, but she also recalled Ulquiorra taking different hallways, and different stairs. But…don't all stairways lead up or down? Orihime continued going up the stairs, but stopped when she heard voices, and pinned herself against the wall. Footsteps and voices rang out from a hallway up above, traveling down into the stairwell.

"I swear, Grimmjow, give me my robe back or I'll eviscerate you."

"What makes you think I'd take your robe?"

"Grimmjow…hand it over."

"Yami, my god. You're such a dumbass. I don't have it."

Orihime waited until the voices faded, and then breathed a sight of relief. She really wondered where Ulquiorra was. It sometimes seemed to her that he was ubiquitous. He always seemed to appear wherever she went-- but maybe that was because she was in the cell all day…but then something occurred to her. She was free, stretching her legs at last! Though she couldn't run, afraid of taking heavy and loud steps, she skipped lightly, up and down the stairs until she reached the final story. Orihime couldn't believe her luck, she hadn't run into anyone yet. But taking a turn, she ran straight into…

Orihime looked up. WAAAAAY up.

Yami stared down at her, scowling.

"Hey, you…what are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously.

"I…uh…I'm…Aizen-sama sent me up here." she lied, thinking quickly.

"Oh." murmured Yami, looking her over. "Hey, wait a sec…that's my…never mind. Whatever."

Yami walked right around Orihime.

Orihime didn't move, just sighed heavily at how close that was. If it had been Noitora she had run into…she would've probably been dead. Orihime was relieved Yami was so stupid.

Orihime finished taking her turn, and continued down the hallway. She took another right, and stopped. Down at the end, she saw the high doors of Ulquiorra's room. Barely containing her excitement, she ran down the hallway, and reached his door. She leaned on one of the doors; it was very heavy, and it opened a little. Easing herself into Ulquiorra's room, she really couldn't see anything, even with the door slightly open.

Orihime frowned. She couldn't see very well, and could barely make out the outlines of any of his furniture. Heavy, dark curtains fell over the large windows, and she couldn't find a sliver of light anywhere.

Orihime managed to blindly make it close to the windows, or what she thought was the edge, groped in the pitch black for something, a string to pull them up with. She sighed and gave up, and decided to raise the curtains old style, by simply pulling them up, manually. She did, and light poured into the room, shedding light on Ulquiorra's hair. Why didn't she notice his hair earlier? Black is a huge contrast to white sheets, whether in the darkness or in broad light. Orihime heard a rustle, and Ulquiorra, who seemed to still be sleeping, rolled onto his other side, so he was facing the opposite wall. Orihime was amused at how he pulled the covers over his head. Another thing that she could find now was the string to pull up the curtains. Orihime grasped it firmly, gave a strong, jerky pull and the curtains flew up. Orihime raised a hand to shield her eyes. The light was extremely strong. Over at the bed, Ulquiorra put a pillow on top of his head, making Orihime giggle.

With small, quiet steps, Orihime made it to his bedside undetected.

She carefully observed Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra seemed to be on his side, with his hands pulled close to his chest. In all, the scene was made very comical because of the pillow on his head. And the pillows on the floor, and scattered around. Orihime leaned close to him, and poked the pillow on his head lightly. Nothing happened. Orihime poked his shoulder. Ulquiorra shifted. Maybe if she tried to move the pillow, he'd wake up. She gave it a shove, and the plushy pillow went flying off his face. Ulquiorra's eyes flew open. The first thing he did when he saw Orihime, was frown, and sit up.

"Woman, why are you in my room?" he asked coldly. Though Ulquiorra doesn't really express any emotion, she could tell he was furious. Just the way he was looking at her made her spine tingle. And, maybe it was just her, but she could've sworn his pupils were much tinier than before. It gave him an exotic, albeit volatile appearance.

"You hadn't come to feed me." she said shortly. "I'm hungry."

"It's not time yet, woman. Now leave right now."

"Um, Ulqui-chan, it's eleven thirty. It says on your clock."

Ulquiorra stared at the clock blankly-- that is until, reality hit him. His eyes widened.

"Eleven thirty?" He echoed.

"Yup."

She could've sworn she saw him mouth a cussword. Ulquiorra kicked the covers off, got off the bed, and started putting on his usual clothing from yesterday. He shrugged off the haori, letting it float to the ground, and shouldered his usual tailcoat, zipping it up and straightened his hakama. He looked at Orihime with a frown, and beckoned her over with a jerk of his finger.

"Ulqui-chan! You forgot your zanpakutou!" Orihime cried.

Ulquiorra, who was halfway out the door, turned on his heel and came back into the room. Orihime was slightly curious when she saw him walk over to his bed. Ulquiorra slipped a hand under his pillow, and out came his zanpakutou, which he slid easily into his sash.

But then he turned on Orihime. The air in the room froze. Orihime cringed, and froze right on the spot.

"If you ever call me that again, woman…" Ulquiorra said quietly approaching her. He seemed to be looking down at the floor. Orihime was afraid, but she couldn't move. Something in her told her to stay still. Ulquiorra looked up, and seeing the look on his face made Orihime whimper. "I will kill you." he finished, death in each syllable.

Ulquiorra had never quite scared Orihime before, and whether it was the strange lighting or his true face, Orihime did not know, but she felt all warmth in her fade into icy fear. For one, his green eyes stood out more than ever, and the pupils were almost nonexistent. His frown was deep and threatening. Ulquiorra was almost always frowning, but this was real fury. And, Orihime did not like the way he had his hand set precariously on the hilt, fingering the hilt in hungry, longing way.

"Yes…sir, yes, sir…" she squeaked. "I will never call you that again."

Ulquiorra glowered at her for a few more seconds, before dropping his gaze, and making his way to the door. Orihime shakily followed, thinking that a wrong step would anger him. Thinking that a wrong breath would leave her dead. Thought she really did not know why, she found herself with teary eyes and a hurt heart. Why had his strictness, his harsh words struck her so deeply? She didn't hold back, and started to wail like a hurt animal, rubbing her eyes.

Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder, and seeing her tearstained face, stopped.

"Woman, why do you cry?"

"You…you…" Orihime took a few sniffles. "You were so mean to me…" And then broke into a cry again.

She felt Ulquiorra's sharp eyes studying her.

"I did not mean it in such a way." he said curtly, approaching her.

"You said you'd kill me!" shrieked Orihime.

Ulquiorra sighed, and shook his head.

"Orihime."

"So mean, so mean…" she murmured.

"_Orihime_."

Orihime stopped, seeing her attention was being called, and looked up from the floor.

"I must apologize. I am very tired. And, Orihime, it's very disrespectful to come into somebody's room when you do not know them very well. Leaving your cell without my consent is impudent and thoughtless."

"I was looking for you…how was I supposed to know you slept in?"

"You wait patiently." Ulquiorra replied, in his usual demeanor. "I would come sometime."

"It didn't seem like it! I was lonely!" she wailed.

In whatever way, this seemed to have struck Ulquiorra. She caught his eyebrow quirk downward, making him look curious, yet caustic.

"Lonely." he muttered skeptically.

"Yes, lonely! There was no one there with me. You're usually with me, though you're dead. You act dead. But you're there with me. It makes a difference, you know." Orihime murmured.

Ulquiorra cocked his head, and she could've sworn he saw him smile. If it was a smile, it was extremely tiny and conservative.

"You're a strange one, woman." he said flippantly, turning and walking once again.

"Hey-- what's that supposed to mean?" demanded Orihime.

Ulquiorra kept walking.

"Does it mean I'm weird?"

Orihime assumed she'd never get answer from Ulquiorra, so she shut up, and was left to thoughtful silence. Ulquiorra broke it with a statement, one she thought wasn't possible for him to say.

"It means you're unique, Orihime. I never called you weird."

So she did get an answer. Was he pondering her question this whole time?

Now he left Orihime with the last word. She couldn't think of anything to say. She could, but something so simple to something she regarded, and would for a while.

"Thank you."

"The truth does not have to be regarded as a compliment."

Orihime smiled to herself, feeling her heart beat with emotions, ones she hadn't felt in such a long time. She could easily pick out all of them, but there was one more she could not find a word for. Orihime hadn't felt it before, and she didn't know what to make of it.

The morning progressed into the afternoon. Orihime had been fed, Ulquiorra had been force fed candy and sweets to wake him up by Orihime, and now the two were back in Orihime's cell.

Ulquiorra was reading a thick book, sitting on her couch. He was noticeably engrossed. Orihime was making another fortress on her bed. There was a thoughtful silence. It wasn't a dead, cold silence, because the sound of Ulquiorra turning pages and the rustling or Orihime's sheets and pillow somehow gave the room a homey and alive feel.

"Ahh-ha! Ulquiorra, look at my castle!"

Ulquiorra only buried himself deeper into the book.

"Fine, don't look!" returned Orihime.

Orihime didn't exactly seem to mind that Ulquiorra was too captivated by him book. She figured he'd be very impressed with it later, when she was finished.

The clock hit two soon enough. Orihime was taking painstakingly careful movements in setting more pillows on top of others. Meanwhile, Ulquiorra had lay down on her couch, and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep. His hanging arm brushed over the cover of his finished book. He was quite bored, now that he had finished the book.

"Ulquiorra…my fortress is done. Isn't it great?"

Orihime was grinning madly from under a mess of sheets and pillows. She looked genuinely happy.

"The time you have wasted will never return, woman."

"You know you like it."

"For something one spent two hours on, that is a pathetic excuse for what you call a fortress." answered Ulquiorra.

Orihime didn't hide her disappointment.

"At least I didn't waste my time reading."

Ulquiorra's eyes flicked over to her. A smug expression floated over his face.

"You think reading is a waste of time, woman?" questioned Ulquiorra.

"It's so boring." Orihime grimaced.

"Have you looked past the words, Orihime, and conjured the image they're showing you?"

"What do you mean…?" Orihime frowned.

Ulquiorra shook his head, and looked somewhere else.

Orihime sucked in her cheek, and watched him from her little castle. If Ulquiorra thought Orihime was weird, she thought he should look at himself. He was much weirder to her. Orihime had never thought of herself as weird…but then again, maybe she was freak. She didn't even know what to think of herself anymore.

Silence filled in the gap between them, until they heard something coming down the hallway. Ulquiorra sat up, frowning, and unlike Orihime, didn't scream, or show any emotion, when Grimmjow banged the door open.

"Ulquiorra!" he roared, spit flying from his mouth. "Aizen wants you!"

"I'm sure you don't have to announce that at such a ridiculous volume. I'll be back, woman--"

"He wants her, too." Grimmjow pointed at Orihime. "And Aizen doesn't sound happy."

Orihime looked at Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra returned her stare, and beckoned her over.

"Come, woman."

Orihime nodded shyly, and scurried to Ulquiorra's side. Grimmjow's eyebrow went up at the sight of this.

"Yeah. 'Kay. Hey, Ulquiorra, just wondering-- up in the Espada's showers, I found a bra. Is it yours?" Grimmjow teased, smirking.

Orihime felt like a fire had lit up behind her cheeks. For that reason, she got closer to Ulquiorra, and made sure that Grimmjow couldn't see her face from his angle. Orihime felt Ulquiorra's tension rise considerably.

"No, Grimmjow, it's not. What were you doing in the showers? Last time I remembered, you were la sexta Espada."

Grimmjow's mouth dropped.

"Oh, well, it's kind of obvious when--"

Ulquiorra shot him a look that made Grimmjow shut up. Aizen was up ahead. They could already see him lounging in his throne.

"H-hey man, a pink bra is pretty obvious…"

"Such stupidity from a very Espada." Ulquiorra sighed. "How disgraceful."

"At least I don't hug girls." scoffed Grimmjow.

Ulquiorra stopped walking. She saw his mouth open like he were thinking of a quick lie. Ulquiorra's hand flew up to his sword's hilt, where he fingered the hilt in a nervous fashion.

"I know all about your little secret." Grimmjow added, walking ahead of them. He stopped a grinned at them.

"Looks like there'll be room for another Espada!"

Orihime felt something rise in her. Anger. Real anger.

She stomped up to Grimmjow, and looked harshly into his eyes. Grimmjow looked at her curiously.

"What do you want, bitch?"

"Do not call her that, Grimmjow."

Orihime heard a sharp slicing sound, and something caught her eye. On her left side, she saw a blade, pointed at Grimmjow. She made a half turn, and saw Ulquiorra standing in a very majestic way. His arm was outstretched, holding the sword tightly. The look on his face would've made Orihime cower, but since it wasn't directed at her, she didn't mind. She was simply awing him. Orihime had no idea this was the cold serious person she sat with everyday. He looked like a true swordsman…like a prince or something.

Grimmjow just stared at them, breaking out into high pitched laughter.

"Are you really going to attack me, Ulquiorra?"

"I never said I wouldn't." Ulquiorra said quietly. "If you ever call Orihime that or anything else again, I will kill you."

Orihime clasped her hands and watched. She was charmed by Ulquiorra, for some reason.

Grimmjow weighed the consequences. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Aizen himself.

"Who started this tussle here?"

Aizen had most likely stridden over to watch some bloodshed. That, or he wanted to get someone into trouble. Although Aizen was standing right there before them, Ulquiorra's icy gaze stayed on Grimmjow. His sword stood pointing straight ahead.

Nobody answered. Except for Orihime.

"Um, well, Aizen-sama, nobody started this. But it was Grimmjow who was really adding oil to the fire. He was accusing me and Ulquiorra of having a relationship." Orihime meekly answered.

Aizen stared at her and blinked. He smirked.

"Ulquiorra, is this true?"

"Yes."

"Uh, yeah, you forgot to mention that there was bra in showers. And panties. AND HER CLOTHING. The bitch left all her--"

Orihime didn't even see Ulquiorra move. All she saw now was the tip of Ulquiorra's zanpakutou between Grimmjow's collarbones.

"I have to repeat myself to an idiot who won't listen." Ulquiorra remarked. He shook his head. "Pathetic."

"Ulquiorra, put your sword down."

"I'm afraid I cannot, Aizen-sama. I will not go back on my word." Ulquiorra said mildly.

Aizen frowned.

"I need an explanation." he muttered. "Ulquiorra, please explain. Especially the part about the underwear in the shower."

Grimmjow snorted angrily. Ulquiorra jabbed him with his sword, drawing blood.

"Aizen-sama, the prisoner wanted to shower. She did look quite dirty. So I let her, using my best judgment of the situation. But it seems we forgot to pick up the clothing after we left. Please forgive us." Ulquiorra bent into small bow.

Aizen blinked. Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"And this animal started to harass us about it. I understand I did wrong--"

"Wait, wait, wait. Ulquiorra, you took the prisoner up to the Espada's showers?"

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

Aizen's face became unreadable. He looked at all of them, his eyes lingering on Ulquiorra.

"In that case, Ulquiorra, I see that you did nothing wrong."

"WHAT?!" screeched Grimmjow.

"Quiet, you." Ulquiorra murmured, leaning his weight on his sword.

"I'm sure that you only wanted to help the prisoner feel more at home, so her powers would become stronger." Aizen said with a nod. "But remember to pick up the clothing after you leave the showers."

"Of course." Ulquiorra replied, with a hasty bow.

"Aizen-sama, there's a relationship between them!" Grimmjow said caustically. "Ulquiorra likes her! Or, she likes him…or something--"

"Grimmjow, do not come to me with such ridiculous accusations. Ulquiorra would never get attached to her." Aizen said darkly. "All of you, leave my sight now."

"Did you need to see us, Aizen?" questioned Ulquiorra, sheathing his sword.

"No…who told you that?"

"Grimmjow."

Grimmjow stiffened. Aizen looked amused.

"Grimmjow, stay here. You two, go."

Ulquiorra turned and went off walking, but Orihime stayed behind.

"Oh! Aizen-sama. I was wondering if I would be allowed take walks around the palace. It gets very boring in my room, I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. Would that be alright with you?"

Aizen smiled at her.

"Yes, of course, Orihime. Ulquiorra will accompany you. You may also dine with the rest of the Espada. You may leave."

"Thank you very much, Aizen-sama." Orihime curtsied with a wide smile, and scurried to Ulquiorra's side. Ulquiorra was quiet, as usual.

"Ulquiorra, where are we going?" she asked.

"My room. I need a book to read." he replied.

"You sure like to read, don't you?" Orihime surmised.

"I do." He replied.

"Ulquiorra…you're really cool, you know that?"

Ulquiorra didn't reply. That was a comment he couldn't find a reply for. His thoughts lingered on what Aizen had said, about getting attached to Orihime. Ulquiorra knew that wasn't right. He hated-- well, not hated-- but the girl irritated her. He wished he had never been forced to be her guard. But was he really getting attached? Then, a thought that made him bite his lip came to mind. That thing that teenagers rave about…love, it was called…Ulquiorra banned any thoughts dealing with love from his mind. But then what was love? It was an attraction…and attachment, in a way, Ulquiorra knew that. But, he thought of it as a disease. What are the symptoms? Ulquiorra made a quick mental note of the odd, strange things he had felt with Orihime…the hot face, and then, though it was intuition, a blind guess, something else. It seemed to be fluttery. In the middle of his chest. Orihime wondered why he almost never replied to anything she said. Did he even hear her, or choose to ignore her? Orihime gave up on searching for an answer, and simply stared at the tile.

Then, Orihime, as usual, interrupted his train of thought, just as he was getting somewhere.

"When will I be allowed to call you Ulqui-chan?" inquired Orihime. She was dying to call him that. To her, it seemed a funny contradiction to his overly cold ways.

"Woman, you may never call me that."

"Even if you die?"

"Never."

"Oh…it suits you." Orihime said.

"You're strange."

"I'm unique!" she contradicted, folded her arms and smiling.

"Yes, you are." Ulquiorra agreed, with a nod. She certainly was. Anyone who could make him feel so foreign inside was unique. That, he did not deny. Something was different about this girl.The conversation continued. Ulquiorra called her strange, Orihime denied and dubbed herself something else, and then kept going from there, eventually falling into silence.

Orihime was now sitting on Ulquiorra's bed, swinging her legs back and forth, looking up at the ceiling. Meanwhile, Ulquiorra was at his giant bookshelf, picking books out, reading a few lines from them, and then putting them back. Orihime noticed he was quite picky. In the end, he decided on a gigantic dictionary, and two old books. He plunked the books down on his desk, and sat in his chair. At once, he began to read. Orihime was curious. He was writing something down on a piece of paper, and was absorbed in whatever he was doing.

* * *

What's our dearest Ulqui-chan doing? This was a strange chapter...I like the next chapter better. Please review, thanks for reviewing if you already have! 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Freedom

No es mio. Bleach es la creatura de Tite Kubo. Y, por eso, te vas a encontrar en situaciones que no son muy buenas si not pones el disclaimer.

YEAH! Gotta love my Spanish skills.

* * *

Orihime watched with curiosity as Ulquiorra wrote things down quickly on a piece of paper, his eyes flying the book to the paper, and occasionally at the ceiling, in deep though. Orihime wondered why he was always so discreet and quiet.

"Ulquiorra, what are you doing?"

"Research."

"On what?"

Ulquiorra put down his pen, and looked at Orihime. Ulquiorra found her eyes to be pretty, and unique, like she was. They were such a nice gray color. Ulquiorra wouldn't deny it, he did like their color.

"Orihime. You know what love is, am right? Human females, particularly ones your age, are obsessed with this whole concept of love." Ulquiorra said quietly.

"Well, of course!" Orihime chortled. "Love is simply the best thing ever."

Ulquiorra gave her a very serious stare. He pointed to the couch.

"Sit."

"Oh-- okay."

Orihime skipped over to the couch, and sank into it. Ulquiorra sat across from her, lugging the books over to the coffee table.

"Orihime, explain love to me."

Ulquiorra noticed that when he called her by her real name, she smiled and looked very happy. It wasn't too familiar a term…

"Love?"

"I've looked it up the dictionary, I've read about it, but I still don't understand."

It really was one of the few things Ulquiorra couldn't understand. Orihime had said it like it was a simple thing to understand.

"Love is…love is many things." Orihime's eyes glazed over. She looked very dreamy, a small smiled swept over her face. "Love can be a noun or a--"

"I know that. But explain the noun form to me first."

"Love is feeling you have toward someone, or something. The power of love surpasses all other human emotions. It is an affection one has for someone. And, umm…" Orihime paused. "A very strong affection. But love usually isn't at first sight. It takes time to grow and form…like a seed! And seed planted in the heart, that grows and-- what are you doing?"

"Woman, do not interrupt me. I am taking notes." Ulquiorra finished writing, and looked up. He nodded at her.

"Uhh, okay then. Right, well, the seed starts out tiny. The victim usually doesn't know they're in love, until the seed is actually growing like a weed, out of control, huge!" Orihime paused, letting Ulquiorra copy it down.

"When the victim notices, they don't know what to do. They become paranoid…VERY paranoid. Then, they might spazz and do something stupid!" Orihime said explosively. "Well, anyway, love is…like…well…I don't really know. It's a mystery. A mystery that drives many of us."

"Yes, I understand that, but what are the symptoms?"

"Oh! Well, the victim, once he or she realizes the feelings…well…I really don't know! Heehee! I only know what a crush feels like!" Orihime giggled, blushing.

"What's this 'crush' you speak of?" Ulquiorra questioned.

So far, the only thing that made sense to him was the seed and heart analogy. The rest…was still murky, like a swamp.

"Well, the symptoms of a crush are usually like, you know, your face feels really hot, which is blushing, your palms might start sweating, you get all hot and do stupid things. But if you can't explain it…then that's something else I don't know the answer to."

Ulquiorra had stopped taking notes, seeing where this was going.

"Orihime…" he trailed off. "If you feel something besides those symptoms, but you don't know what it is, then what is it?"

Orihime cocked her head.

"Oh, then, I think that might be love. But I'm not sure, I've never experienced actual, serious LOVE. I'm only sixteen, you know."

Without warning, it started to pour outside. It was like the ocean was falling on them.

"Oh my!"

Orihime got up and ran to the window, fascinated. Ulquiorra stayed sitting on the couch, frowning. He wasn't sure of his problem yet. And, he noticed that there was something about Orihime that kept him from getting any sleep last night. But even so, he was getting angry at himself for not being able to figure it out. They had spent two months together. Not that they really talked. Orihime was too afraid for a while, and Ulquiorra was silent, the way he always is. He studied his situation quickly. His eyes floated over the notes, striking anger in him. He took the paper, and crumpled it up. What was he thinking? In front of him sat the most thorough dictionary in his shelf. Yet after all this, he still couldn't understand love. Ulquiorra wondered where his acumen was hiding, or whether it had really left him. But, the real thing nagging him was in the back of his mind. He knew what it was, but he didn't-- or couldn't-- find it. He sat there, thinking deeply, until the answer he had been searching for came forward, almost to his lips.

He knew it now.

He really was falling for Orihime. He had been charmed by her, her personality, and even her looks. The hot feeling was the blush, the stupid things(stupid to him, anyway)were controlled by the seed in his heart, which had been rooted down and grown up to control him. Just by one girl…a prisoner…he wouldn't allow it. But what Ulquiorra really wouldn't allow was that he really was…in love. The words made him feel like committing suicide, or just killing Orihime. It wasn't her fault, he knew. It was his fault, right? A weakness.

"Ulquiorra, what do have to do here? I want to do something fun!" Orihime walked back to the couch, smiling widely, and looking quite playful indeed.

"Woman, fun is such a trivial thing." Ulquiorra replied, standing up.

"Well, do you have anything that doesn't have to do with reading? Something that is FUN? Orihime asked, with slight chagrin.

Now that Orihime mentioned it…what was there to do here? Ulquiorra usually busied himself thinking or reading, and of course watching Orihime in her cell, but other than that, there wasn't much to do. Not that he cared, really. Dead silence was better than a whisper, or any noise at all. This left Ulquiorra thinking of something to reply.

"By, fun, woman, what exactly do you mean?"

Orihime looked up.

"Mmm, like, you know…video games, cooking, internet, a pool, all that…but I guess you're more amused by non-material things, huh?"

Ulquiorra thought about what she said, and nodded.

"Right. Well, what do you consider boring?" Orihime asked.

"Boring?"

"Oh, sorry, I meant 'trivial' and 'childish'." Orihime said, mocking him. Ulquiorra, because he was no idiot, caught this. It made him slightly irritated.

"Orihime, you're not going to get anywhere by asking me." Ulquiorra replied, frowning.

"Can I send an e-mail?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Do not question my authority."

Ulquiorra suddenly hated Aizen for doing this to him. Why was he stuck having to go with her everywhere? Ulquiorra thought it was bad enough to be with her in the cell, but he had to everywhere with her, and that results in noise, giggling, and all those things that were like scraping nails on a chalkboard for him. He just couldn't stand it.

"I'm so bored!" she murmured, twirling her hair around her fingers. "Hey, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra, who had already found a way to entertain himself by reading the dictionary, looked up at her.

"What?"

"Um, I have no clothing. I'm still wearing this robe."

Ulquiorra blinked. She just had to point that out now.

"Orihime, there's not much you can do. Ask Aizen-sama for some clothing that fit you." he replied.

"Do you have any pins? Safety pins?" she asked curiously.

"No."

"I thought we could use it to pin up the hakama, and the sleeves, and you know, that way it would fit me." Orihime said, smiling. "That, or is there anyone else here who is shorter than you?"

"No."

Ulquiorra hadn't even had a chance to read before Orihime talked again.

"Can I cut this up then and make it--"

Ulquiorra looked up slowly.

"Uhm, okay, I'll just shut up now!"

Orihime plunked herself down next to him, so they were touching. Ulquiorra was too absorbed in his book-- a giant dictionary-- to notice. He continued skimming the A's, until something hit his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Orihime was leaning against him. She yawned.

"You may go to sleep, Orihime. It won't bother me."

"No, I'm just bored. You look like the one that could use a nap. I feel like swimming!" she said.

"No."

"Do you have a pool, here?"

"Yes."

"Can we swim? PLEASE?"

"No."

"Ugh, fine…"

An hour passed by in silence. Ulquiorra had ditched his dictionary, and was reading a heavy book now. He himself was getting sleepy and groggy, and he was tempted to just stretch himself out and get the sleep he lost back. Orihime was already asleep. Ulquiorra didn't want to push her off, it took too much energy at the moment. He found it impossible to stay awake. The letters and words were getting blurry, and his mind was a muddled mass of thoughts. He couldn't help leaning to the side, Orihime going with him, and falling asleep.

* * *

MKAY. People, I'm getting really pissed now. Uh, yeah, I'm getting lots of story alerts, more alerts, and faves and stuff, but reviews? Look, if you're going to fav/alert, drop a FREAKING review! It's just gay that all you people have me on favs and alerts, when I want reviews too. It's not that hard, okay?

**1. press the button.**

**2. TYPE SOMETHING.**

**3. Fav/alert whatever you want to do. **

**4. Hit SEND. Okay? Do you understand now?**

Alright, I'll shut up now. Sorry to be so bitchy, but seriously. I'm getting sick of it.

**For those who review** Thank you very much, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. If you review, **you might even get some spoilers** out of me if you catch me in a good mood. Chances are you will, review make me euphoric and blissful.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Confusion Among the Espada

Ehhh, not mine. Sorry kiddies.

Might be some **SPOILERS**

Orihime didn't know what had happened, but she did not want to wake up. She had already, but was too comfortable to move, or open her eyes. Orihime took a deep inhale, sniffing a sharp, manly, yet relaxing aroma. It cleared her mind, and made her want to get up and skip around or something. Orihime hesitantly opened her eyes, and gasped when she saw what she was staring at: Ulquiorra's hollow hole. She then became aware of something that came around and over her waist, realizing it was Ulquiorra's arm. Yet, she didn't want to push away, in fear of waking him up. Judging by the light of the room, it was night. Orihime winced, carefully trying to pry herself out from under his arm, without waking Ulquiorra up. That would certainly be task…

Carefully, painstakingly, Orihime took his wrist, and put it by his side. Ulquiorra shifted. Orihime held her breath. Then, reality hit her. She'd have to literally roll off the bed to not wake him up. Praying that nothing was below her, she rolled off the couch, and landed with a loud thud, and a cry from her. A dull pain started in the back of her head.

"Owww…" she murmured, rubbing the back of her head. Her eyes started to tear up. That was a harder fall than she thought. Orihime staggered up. Stealing a quick glance at Ulquiorra, she was relieved that he was still sleeping-- well, sort of. He was laying there, but his arms were folded and he stared at her with his perfect green eyes. Orihime felt faint for a second.

"Woman, what is your reason for falling off the bed? It was not accidental."

"Well, umm, you see…I woke up and then…well, I wanted to let you sleep…so I got your arm off me and fell off!" she replied, smiling through her pain.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened a little bit. It seemed he had realized the awkward position they were in. Ulquiorra looked away, in what Orihime took as embarrassment.

"You are strange." he muttered.

"Ulquiorra, are you alright? You don't look quite yourself."

"I'm fine, Orihime." he replied firmly.

Orihime stared into his eyes. In the end, she looked away first. What was it about him that scared her, but fascinated her at the same time? Ulquiorra always looked threatening, with or without his sword by his side.

"It's six thirty. Let's go down to the dining hall."

"Oh, what are we going to eat?" Orihime asked, dreaming up all the things she'd like to eat.

"Whatever the servants make." He replied curtly, holding the door open for her.

"Can I just put on your clothes again? I can't walk around with this robe forever." Orihime asked. She did have a point.

"Fine. Just tie the sash tightly, so it'll hold the hakama up on you." Ulquiorra went into his closet, and came back out with his neatly folded uniform.

"Thanks, Ulquiorra!"

Orihime changed quickly, and doing as Ulquiorra said, she didn't look so idiotic anymore. The sleeves were still too long, so she just rolled them up.

"Hey, Ulquiorra, you remind me of a prince, you know?" Orihime said, giggling at her little thought.

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow, and looked at her from under his scowl with what was either curiosity, or doubt.

"Woman, your fantasies are too farfetched for anyone to comprehend with." Ulquiorra murmured.

"No, seriously!" Orihime skipped along to match up to his quick gait. "The way you stand and talk, and how prince-y you are! With the sword and you're all 'Do not call her that ever again or I'll kill you' deal. That's what a prince would do."

"You know nothing."

"It's kind of like…oh, what's the word…mmm…OH! You're chivalrous! Well, sort of. You're kind of cold and distant." Orihime concluded. "But yeah. Prince-like! Can I call you prince?"

"Certainly not." Ulquiorra answered. He frowned, and shot Orihime a look over his shoulder.

"Oh, but why not?"

"I will not ever call you Hime."

"It's part of my name…" Orihime murmured.

"I'm well aware of that, Orihime."

Orihime gave up then and there. It was quite obvious she wouldn't get her way in this situation, especially with Ulquiorra involved. Orihime stared at Ulquiorra's back blankly as they quickly went down to the dining hall. She wondered why he was always so serious and unsmiling. Though it was just probably his nature, Orihime couldn't help but wonder. And, was it just her, or was she being called 'woman' less? Orihime felt very strange, now, just thinking about it. She realized the cold air, and folded her arms against her chest. She felt excessively aware of her surroundings, like she had more than two eyes and a brain. Though Orihime had absolutely no idea why, she found herself tearing up again. Orihime silently cursed herself for acting like a baby. She also inwardly cursed Ulquiorra for somehow taking notice of her teary eyes, even though he wasn't even looking at her. Was it that he was casually looking over his shoulder at her, or was it because he sensed something? Upon seeing her, Ulquiorra looked somewhat concerned. He turned all the way around to face her.

"What is it, Orihime?" he asked in an undertone, stepping closer to her. Orihime could already smell his 'scent'. It was unlike her to not have noticed it before. He practically radiated that aroma. Orihime looked down. Ulquiorra came even closer, and Orihime was almost sure he made a move to touch her, whether it was to pat her gently, or hug her.

"It's nothing…" Orihime said tightly.

"Orihime, tell me." Ulquiorra said.

Orihime was convinced to spill her guts out, but she kept herself calm. Orihime didn't want to make Ulquiorra feel like he was supposed to be a psychologist.

"I'm cold." She answered shortly.

Silence.

"Is that so? I'm not cold."

"Because you're cold hearted." She murmured.

"Orihime, what's bothering you?" It wasn't a question from Ulquiorra, it was practically a demand. Ulquiorra came even closer, so she could hear his breathing. It all felt so weird.

"I'm cold. Really, I am."

She could feel Ulquiorra observing her.

"Then I suppose I will have to guess."

Something touched her arm. Orihime looked up, and found her face no less than six inches away from Ulquiorra's. Orihime felt her shoulder was being stroked by one of Ulquiorra's fingers. Bringing herself to look into his eyes, she saw that even though Ulquiorra still looked cold and severe, he looked like he was worried about her.

"Orihime, you're easy. You don't want to live in your cell anymore; it's too lonely for you. These past days have spoiled you, being so free." Ulquiorra guess was so accurate it was supernatural.

Orihime throat tightened. That was her problem, but put into words. It made her sound so weak, she could hardly bear it. That started the tears' flow.

"Is that it?"

Orihime nodded.

Orihime was amazed when Ulquiorra enveloped her in soft, not-too-intimate hug. Orihime, though, found it extremely comforting. He was very stiff, but that made her hold onto him harder, because she knew he'd never crumble. He had been so nice to her lately. She couldn't believe it. What had changed him so suddenly? His touch was just unnaturally soft. Orihime thought it felt like a massage, but like a massage for her mind. She smiled through her tears, and buried her face in his shoulder. She loved the way Ulquiorra rubbed her back lightly.

"Orihime, loneliness is all in your mind. Just because you miss your friends, it does not mean you're lonely."

A light bulb went off in Orihime's mind. It shed light on everything. Ulquiorra was right. She wasn't alone, Ulquiorra was right there hugging her. That was something she thought would never happen, in her dreams, and in reality. Ulquiorra had been with her all along, but he was always so distant it wasn't hard to differentiate between an ice cube and the actual Ulquiorra. She really didn't want to live in that cell anymore.

"Ulquiorra, you're the best."

"Keep those thoughts to yourself."

Orihime would never understand Ulquiorra. But at least he understood her…

"Ulquiorra, I hate the cell. I really do. Can I bunk in with you?"

Ulquiorra broke the hug abruptly, and stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"No. I will ask Aizen-sama to see if he can get you an actual room. And, remember, Orihime."

Orihime let her arms slide down to her side. She smiled widely at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra quickly brushed off some remaining tears off her face.

"I will not be here everyday for that. You'll be a prisoner here for good. Now, let's get going."

Orihime didn't care if she was prisoner, as long as Ulquiorra was with her. Orihime saw Ulquiorra like a totally new species: observation, interaction, and questioning were huge factors. She wondered if she could ever change him, or at least make him a little warmer than ice.

"Ulquiorra, you'll be here for me everyday!" Orihime chortled, skipping to stay with his pace.

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Say what you wish, if it pleases you so."

Orihime giggled. The two continued down to the dining hall. Orihime took note of the annoyingly confusing hallways. They all looked the same. How was it possible for Ulquiorra to know his way around here without a problem? Ulquiorra approached large doors, wide open. Orihime could see the other Espada seated, and waiting. They were all talking loudly, and laughing raucously. The air around them became heavy, and Orihime felt Ulquiorra's patience waver, and thin out.

"Are they always like this…?" Orihime asked.

"Always." Murmured Ulquiorra, frowning.

"Oh."

"I won't let them touch you, don't worry."

"Okay."

Ulquiorra and Orihime walked in. The room was huge, with gigantic vaulted ceilings. Orihime felt like she was a in cave.

"I'll sit next to Noitora; you'll sit next to me." Ulquiorra said.

Orihime followed Ulquiorra, on his heels.

"Pet-chan! Welcome!" greeted Noitora. "And Ulquiorra. What's up?"

Ulquiorra held the chair out for Orihime next to him. Orihime quickly sat down, and didn't hesitate to move closer to Ulquiorra, much to his irritation. Then it occurred to Orihime: this was the perfect chance to observe Ulquiorra with his own type! Was he more talkative, did he act differently with the other Espada?

Noitora was asking Ulquiorra questions, and seemed to be telling him a funny story. Ulquiorra stared straight ahead nodding every so often. Noitora finished, but he frowned when he saw Orihime staring at Ulquiorra. Orihime noticed Noitora lean over and murmur something in Ulquiorra's ear. Ulquiorra looked like he was about to reply, but then frowned and shook his head. Noitora made a sly face, and gazed at Orihime for a bit. Orihime, embarrassed, looked away, and decided to study everyone else that was at the table. Orihime noticed that she was being studied by a pink haired guy in front of her. He had his chin in his hand and looked at her with bare curiosity. Orihime smiled cautiously at him.

"Hello. I'm Orihime."

"My name is Szayel."

"Is your hair made out of cotton candy?"

"No."

"Oh. Do you like cotton candy?"

"Yes."

"Me too."

The conversation stayed on sweets and sugar throughout the meal. Orihime now suddenly felt a need to have sweets, now that Szayel mentioned it. She made a careful attempt to draw Ulquiorra away from his food and conversation with Noitora by tapping Ulquiorra's shoulder lightly. Ulquiorra ditched Noitora immediately, and turned to Orihime. But she saw what was on his spoon. It was pink, creamy, and had a perfect little curl on top. It looked suspiciously like ice cream, something Orihime dearly missed. Without thinking, she leaned over and tried to get a bite off his spoon, but Ulquiorra was too quick. He was already holding it above her by the time she had fallen face first into his lap.

"OW!"

"What was that for?"

Orihime returned to a normal sitting position while rubbing her nose.

"I wanted the ice cream…"

Ulquiorra looked at her from under amused eyebrows.

"And you flung yourself at it for that reason? Oh, Orihime…you're too strange." He murmured quietly.

Ulquiorra pushed the bowl of ice cream to her. He didn't seem to mind giving up the sugary goodness, but Orihime detected some reluctance as he pushed it over.

"It's strawberry, right?" questioned Orihime.

"I should think so. If not, it's cotton candy."

Orihime smiled at Ulquiorra and Szayel. Szayel chuckled at Ulquiorra's comment, and Orihime giggled in a girly way.

"Want to share? I don't want you to miss out." Orihime offered, scooting the bowl a bit toward Ulquiorra.

"No, thank you."

Ulquiorra pushed it back, returning to his quiet conversation with Noitora, and now Stark. Orihime pushed it a bit toward him once again. She didn't like not sharing with him, especially after being so nice and patient with her earlier.

Ulquiorra excused himself from the conversation and turned to Orihime, noticeably annoyed.

"Orihime, it's all yours. Take it." He said firmly.

"Oh, fine!" Orihime scowled. "I bet you just don't want to share with me…"

"It's not that." Ulquiorra said swiftly. He dipped the spoon in the pink goodness, and took a lick off it. Orihime watched him cringe and make a face very unlike him.

"Too sweet." he said tightly.

"How can something be too—"

Orihime was cut off sharply when a spoon was thrust into her mouth, gagging her momentarily until it was ripped out once again. She was left with a very sweet taste. Perfectly sweet, and cool, like ice cream. Orihime let herself slip into a slight dreamland. Tears almost filled her eyes as she savored it. Why was it that the taste made her feel like she missing something? It occurred to her then…Ichigo's name has two meanings. One, a strawberry. And the ice cream was strawberry. Nostalgia closed up Orihime's throat, and pricked her eyes. Strange how emotions can be so vicious. And it's also strange how Ulquiorra's senses are keen to a point where it's uncanny, scary.

"Orihime, are you alright?"

"Yes, of course." Orihime murmured, wincing tightly. "I'm fine."

"Every time you say that, you always end up sobbing in my shoulder. Why is that?"

Orihime couldn't bring herself to look at Ulquiorra. She knew she wasn't supposed to be afraid of him. Though she wouldn't allow herself to admit it, she was afraid Ulquiorra would think of her as weak.

"It's nothing."

Orihime heard Ulquiorra's chair scrape the floor lightly. His footsteps faded. Orihime only heard the other Espada, chattering loudly. Then, Orihime heard some movement.

"Looks like he's pulling strings for you." Noitora murmured. "Look, you'll get to see Ulquiorra kissing ass."

Orihime looked up, trying to hide her watery eyes.

Down at the end of the table, Orihime saw Aizen, looking at Ulquiorra with great interest. She only saw Ulquiorra's mouth move, but she wished she could hear what he was saying. Whatever it was, Aizen sure looked amused. Amused to the point where it was almost sarcasm. Ulquiorra suddenly frowned, and made a quick gesture toward her with his hand.

"See? Ulquiorra's pulling quite a few strings. I can tell by that look on his face." Noitora pointed out. "He looks nervous."

"Yeah, I guess." Orihime agreed. But he must've meant tense, not nervous. Ulquiorra had his hands behind his back, and she could see him wringing his hands—just like her.

"He's fidgety." Noitora said, looking over the heads of everyone else.

"Wow…" Orihime shoveled more ice cream into her mouth. She wondered what Ulquiorra was saying, and what the consequences would be.

Aizen replied, smiling softly, and with a sincere look on his face. Ulquiorra hid a scowl quickly, bowed jerkily, and stalked back to his seat.

Orihime looked at him expectantly.

"From now on, Orihime, you're going to be sleeping in my room…" he said very quietly. Ulquiorra seemed to be almost ashamed. "Do not tell anyone." He added sharply.

Orihime grinned widely at him, and suppressed tears once again.

"Ulquiorra…why are you doing this?"

Ulquiorra refused to answer. Orihime eventually stopped pursuing an answer, and was left to wonder until Ulquiorra gently shook her out of dreamland by murmuring her name.

"Let's go. Back to the room. Let's stop by the cell to get your things." Ulquiorra said, standing up.

Orihime nodded, and followed him out. She found herself quite tired. Everything passed by in the hallways, but she wasn't fully aware of what was going on. She was pleasantly stupefied.

Ulquiorra held the door open for her and stayed at the doorway, but Orihime did not go in. She yawned and leaned her head on Ulquiorra instead.

"I'm tired…can we get it tomorrow?"

"Of course." Ulquiorra said quickly, shutting the door and moving on. Orihime blinked dazedly, yawned, and trudged after Ulquiorra.

She was about dead when they reached Ulquiorra's room. Orihime dragged herself to his couch, and collapsed onto it. She fell asleep so quickly she barely noticed a fluffy blanket fall onto her; she never noticed Ulquiorra's face come extremely close to hers.

What's going to happen here? Will he be brave enough to plant a kiss on her?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Thinking It Over

It's not mine…

* * *

Once Ulquiorra realized what he was doing, he pulled back sharply, with a hand over his mouth. What was he even thinking of doing? Where had his brain drifted off to? Now that he was conscious again, Ulquiorra felt like committing suicide once he actually found out that what he was about to do was kiss her. The thought practically made him sick with humiliation. Ulquiorra sat on the couch opposite hers, holding his chin in his hand, and thinking thoroughly about what was going on. Someone had spiked his food with _something_. A love drug? Ulquiorra was positive that didn't exist. You can't force love…

Then he remembered what Aizen had said to him when he asked if Orihime could bunk in with him, so she wouldn't feel as lonely. Aizen went on about the "getting attached" crap, and then added something else: "She may not be with us forever, Ulquiorra."

The thing was, Orihime didn't want to be with them forever. But what exactly was Aizen implying there? Naturally, Ulquiorra perceived this shady little warning as a hint to the future.

He couldn't be getting attached to her…she was too stupid, so low level thinking…but Ulquiorra refused to fight it, though he hated the thought of being infatuated. If was in love, then he was in love, and would have to wait until this 'crush' passed. It would only make him stronger, more prepared. But he wasn't supposed to be feeling this, which is what worried him. Noitora loved womanly assets, Szayel was in love with his laboratory…and Ulquiorra, apparently, was in love with Orihime. A human, a real person. That was what worried him. Not worried him, exactly, just horrified him. He had to shudder off the tingling feeling in his spine that told him he was right. Ulquiorra frowned. Even for him, this was complicated. He didn't know the consequences of this 'crush' thing. Or even if it really was love. But, he was quite sure this would pass.

After about three hours of sitting there, pondering his situation, Ulquiorra was more restless than ever. He knew that in his present state sleeping was out of the question. But he didn't want to read, strangely enough. Ulquiorra felt like doing some insane calculus problems. His eyes briefly flew to the clock, and seeing it was only eleven thirty p.m., went straight to his bookshelf to fish around for math books.

After a while of searching, he found a nice, thick book, and went to work from there.

Hours flew by, and he was still not tired. Mentally, he was, but he couldn't fall asleep. He wasn't really aware of the pen he held in hand, forming numbers. Insomnia, something he had been a victim of lately. He glanced at Orihime, who was sleeping well and deep on the couch. He envied her, a bit. She didn't have anything to worry about, at the moment.

Ulquiorra stifled a yawn and trudged to his bedside. He figured he might as well attempt to sleep. Especially in the rare rain of Hueco Mundo. At least there was something to keep his mind off Orihime.

"Hey lady, are you retarded? He's perfectly alive."

"But he won't wake up!"

"Don't give me that shit! You're just not trying hard enough!"

Ulquiorra wasn't even awake, much less alive when he heard Grimmjow reprimanding Orihime, and then felt an annoying poke only Grimmjow could pull off on his arm. Grimmjow, whether he poked him with different fingers, had a very annoying poke. It was the kind that digs into your muscle and stays there for longer than a normal prod would. Ulquiorra felt that weird sensation several times.

"He might be dead…" he heard Grimmjow murmur. "Ah, whatever. I hope he is."

"No!" cried Orihime.

"Relax, he's alive. He's just pretending he doesn't feel my pokes, am I right, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra replied with groan, and whacked Grimmjow with an arm lazily. To Ulquiorra's satisfaction, he felt his fist connect with Grimmjow's stomach.

"Ow! What the hell, man? You're sleeping beauty one second, and then you're hitting people? That's fucked up!"

Ulquiorra rolled onto his side, and pulled the covers over his face. Hopefully, along with sunlight, it would block out annoying Grimmjow.

"He's alive! Grimmy, you brought him to life!" squealed Orihime.

"He was alive all along, dingbat." replied Grimmjow. "Ulquiorra is just a bed hog."

"Oh…well…it didn't seem like it. Ulquiorra! Wake up! It's like, ten a.m.!"

"Holy shit! Ten a.m? I should be in bed! Good luck waking him up."

Grimmjow's footsteps echoed away, leaving Orihime, who was poking and prodding Ulquiorra's back and side. Ulquiorra squirmed away from her. The jabbing continued. Ulquiorra finally couldn't take it anymore. He threw the covers off of him, and sat up…staring right into her face. He was about to give her a good reprimand, but the words evaporated from his mind…as soon as he noticed how close they were. Orihime's nose was almost touching his, but, unlike him, she was smiling broadly, whereas Ulquiorra looked slightly shocked.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!"

Ulquiorra leaned back on his elbows, but Orihime came closer with him. He just wished she'd back away. This was not what he wanted to wake up to. Ulquiorra really wanted to knee her in the diaphragm, seeing that would be the easiest way to get her off him.

"Woman, why are you on me?"

"Had any good dreams? You sure looked like you were!"

"I don't dream."

Ulquiorra, with his freer leg, tried to knock her off him. She didn't budge, and poked his stomach. Ulquiorra cringed.

"Get off me right now." commanded Ulquiorra.

"Are you ticklish?"

"No."

Ticklish? That was such an elementary word. Ulquiorra found it very stupid of her to think, or even try such things.

Orihime frowned cutely.

"Guess we'll have to find out, huh?"

"No."

Ulquiorra sat straight up, and made sure to jab her with his knee on his way up. Now that he had full movement of his legs, he nudged her off the bed. Orihime staggered to the ground.

"You're strong!"

Ulquiorra ignored her, but shot her a stern, angry look instead. It was only ten in the morning. Ulquiorra, before a few days ago, would usually wake up at around seven or eight. But he lacked sleep, and, well, he now had developed a sort of insomnia thanks to her. She should just let him sleep.

"Naturally," he murmured, brushing imaginary dirt off his outfit.

"I'm hungry." she remarked, cocking her head. Now that she mentioned it, so was Ulquiorra. He frowned at her.

"You could've got something to eat yourself." He murmured, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, I wanted to wait for you."

"That's not necessary, Orihime."

Orihime followed after him as he strode off to his bookshelf.

"Books? What about food?"

"Just a minute." He said sharply. Ulquiorra wanted to check something, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He found the calculus book, opened it up, and tried to remember what page he was taking the problems off of. His mind was extremely hazy, like he had been drugged. He couldn't think as clearly as he normally could. Ulquiorra eventually found the page. The first thing he saw was a folded up paper. He prayed there were just calculus problems there. He was positive that was what he did last night…

"What are you looking at?"

Ulquiorra briefly looked at her.

Then, he looked down at the unfolded paper in front of him. He couldn't believe it. His mind may have been in some unknown place, but the paper showed exactly where his mind was. Apparently, it was in his heart. On the paper, he found a beautiful sketch of Orihime. It was just her face, but it showed a strange resemblance to her, like he had been studying her all this time. But the book was open…and…Ulquiorra couldn't explain himself.

"What are you looking at so freaked out-edly?"

Ulquiorra quickly folded it, and pocketed the picture. He'd examine himself—AGAIN—later on, once he was alone. The image of the drawing stayed in his mind. He looked at Orihime; the drawing came into his head. It was a constant reminder of the fact something was wrong with him. He hadn't even drawn before.

"Orihime, when people are in love…you mentioned something about them doing stupid things they can't explain. Would drawing the person while you think you're doing something else be one of the irrational acts?" Ulquiorra asked, slamming the book shut.

Orihime looked at with her big gray eyes.

"Yup. Anything the victim normally wouldn't do is love. I think. I mean, I've never been—"

"I know that, Orihime…" Ulquiorra interrupted, looking down. "I was wondering how you get rid of it."

"You're asking this like you want to know the cure to the common cold. It's not like you're in love, right? I mean, seriously, there aren't any girls here." chortled Orihime, skipping to the door.

"Such ridiculous notions." Ulquiorra mumbled. He almost smiled at how correct she was. But he quickly hid it with his hand, in what would've been a thoughtful gesture.

"No, seriously! It's like you're desperate to find a cure for like, cancer, or something. You ask me like this:" Orihime frowned, stood up straight, and said gravely " 'I was wondering how you get rid of it'."

"I don't sound like that." Ulquiorra said in an equally grave tone.

"Yes you do! Did you just hear yourself? You're so serious, it's…funny!" Orihime burst into high pitched giggles, resounding off the white wall of the room. Ulquiorra was fascinated at how the atmosphere changed. Her laughter made the room happier.

"You know, Ulquiorra, I really don't hate it here, in Las Noches. You're so cool. I mean, you're awesome." Orihime sighed longingly.

Ulquiorra didn't know what to say. He was quite flattered.

"You're not half bad either, Orihime." He said in an undertone. Too bad Orihime picked it up.

"Ah! You really think so?"

Orihime ran to him, and pretty much tackled him, causing poor Ulquiorra to stagger back a little. So, it was like a 'glomp'.

Ulquiorra felt the funny feeling in his face, but he didn't want to push her off. In the end he did, because he couldn't really breathe.

"When can I call you Ulqui-chan?"

"Never."

"Why not?"

"Orihime…" Ulquiorra mumbled angrily. He gave her a gentle push out of his way, and walked to his door. He held it open for her.

"Aren't you coming?" he inquired poignantly.

"Oh, yeah! I thought you were holding the door for my imaginary friend! Sorry!" Orihime said, exiting the room with him.

Not very many people were having breakfast, but those who were gave the two odd looks. Szayel was at the table. Orihime waved. Szayel waved back. He looked very sleepy, like his black coffee wouldn't wake him up. Ulquiorra held the chair out for Orihime, who quickly sat down. Ulquiorra sat next to her.

"What's wrong with you, Szayel?" Ulquiorra asked, serving himself toast.

"I didn't sleep last night." Szayel replied blankly.

"What were you doing?"

"Developing…uhh…what was it called again…? Oh, some thingy Aizen wanted me to make…I forgot the name of it." Szayel faltered, taking a sip of his coffee. "But you yourself don't look very rested."

Ulquiorra looked at him darkly.

"Insomnia." He said in a whisper.

"Insomnia?" questioned Orihime. Ulquiorra shoved the toast he was buttering into her mouth before she said something ridiculous.

"Oh, well, that's pretty bad." Szayel drawled, yawning. "I have a pill for that."

"No, thank you." Ulquiorra said swiftly.

Orihime spit the toast out. Ulquiorra smashed it back in there brusquely, pulling a tired laugh from Szayel.

"Man, that's harsh, Ulquiorra." Szayel chuckled. "You two act like you're lovebirds…"

Ulquiorra looked repulsed by the notion; Orihime giggled the best she could with a whole slice of toast in her mouth.

"Ah, don't look so pissed, Ulquiorra…this is coming from a guy that hasn't slept for three days…whatever. I'm going to go sleep."

Szayel stood up. He waved, and went on dragging himself to his room.

Ulquiorra turned his attention to Orihime, who was working on getting the toast down. He rolled his eyes, and went on to serving himself breakfast. It took Orihime at least three minutes to get the toast down.

"What was that for?" she demanded.

"I wanted to give Szayel a break from you childish questions. He couldn't handle anymore."

Orihime nodded, and shrugged.

"Are you and Szayel friends?"

"An acquaintance, a comrade, that's what he is to me." Ulquiorra replied.

"Is he, like, your BEST friend? You're my best friend right now."

"Orihime, being Espada is not all fun and games. Though it may not look it, we are all allies, working toward the same goal. As you would expect, there will be conflicts among the allies." Though Ulquiorra pretended not to hear it, her words rung out in his head: 'You're my best friend right now'.

"Oh…so, like you and Grimmjow? I can tell you two hate each other."

Ulquiorra hesitated.

"Yes," he replied.

"Oh, I see." Orihime said, rapt. "Who are your closest friends?"

"Comrades," Ulquiorra corrected. "They are Szayel and Stark."

"I've never seen you talk to Stark before! He's always, like, 'I want to sleep shut up and go away'."

"Stark and I are actually quite well on terms."

"And Noitora? He seems kind of…unsophisticated…" Orihime said quietly.

"Don't judge. Noitora can be a fool, but we don't have big problems with each other…he does have a slight superiority complex, though. "

"Sorry. Weird! I mean, yeah, Noitora is nice—"

"That's the incorrect word. Social, but not nice." Ulquiorra corrected. He took a bite of his toast, giving a chance Orihime to think of another question.

"Who do you hate?"

Ulquiorra looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, and swallowed.

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Grimmjow, right?"

"He's very idiotic." Ulquiorra said simply.

"What's up?" someone asked suddenly.

Noitora plunked himself in a chair on Ulquiorra's other side, beaming.

"Noitora." Ulquiorra greeted.

"What's up, Pet-chan?" Noitora said, smiling at Orihime. Orihime waved shyly.

"Oh, yeah, Ulquiorra, it's your turn to cook tonight…" Noitora stated, with a bit of curious hesitation. "Grimmjow said he wanted chili."

Ulquiorra knew what that meant. It meant having to deal with Orihime by his side. From what he knew, she had a strange affinity with cooking. Not that she was good at it, to the best of his knowledge. He felt his insides plunge. It wasn't that cooking was the problem, he was good at that, but it was Orihime. He could see her going insane in the kitchen like Szayel went insane in his laboratory. Maniacal laughter would probably echo along the walls too.

"Thanks for telling me."

Noitora shrugged.

"Just get cooking so Aizen doesn't have to wait. Oh, yeah…" Noitora dropped his voice and leaned over toward Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra leaned a bit toward him, so Orihime wouldn't hear. "Aizen mentioned something about you and Miss Hime over there…he said to us, 'make sure the two don't get attached'. And, yeah, so now everyone thinks you're Orihime's make out partner…"

"Ridiculous," Ulquiorra snorted, tearing his toast more viciously.

"Grimmjow came up with that. Stark pretty much chastised Grimmjow, but still. Aizen, as well as some of the other Espada, are onto you." Noitora said, still whispering.

Ulquiorra cocked his head and frowned.

"That's quite idiotic." Ulquiorra replied shortly. "People judge too quickly."

Noitora agreed, and then went on to chat with Orihime.

Ulquiorra noticed Orihime was slightly uncomfortable around Noitora. But, at the same time, Orihime seemed to trust Ulquiorra with his decisions and thoughts on others.

Orihime finished a ridiculous meal that Ulquiorra had chosen not to look at, hearing Noitora's comments about its appearance of 'war carnage'. Orihime vehemently denied it, something that nearly made Ulquiorra snicker.

"Orihime, are you done?"

"Yes, you?"

"Yes."

Ulquiorra stood up. Noitora glanced at the clock.

"I have to go. Grimmjow's having a party up in his room, and well, you know how he is. See you."

Noitora took off in a gait almost as fast as Ulquiorra's, but nowhere near as smooth.

"Orihime, what do you want to do now?"

Orihime gave Ulquiorra a sly look. He didn't like the way her mouth formed an extremely cute smirk, and the way her eyes were narrowed.

"I want to cook." She said quietly. Orihime giggled loudly; she couldn't keep the sneaky face on any longer.

"It's only ten thirty." Ulquiorra answered. It was an indirect deny. "We'll start at about three."

"Can I go outside?"

Ulquiorra looked at her, and sighed heavily. _I suppose Aizen won't mind…_Besides, Orihime hadn't been in fresh air for a long time. She needed sunlight. Ulquiorra was well aware of the fact humans need vitamin D. And, Orihime was too much to resist. Ulquiorra knew that in the back of his mind, but it hadn't quite come forth yet to hit him like a pile of bricks.

"Please?" begged Orihime.

"Later. After dinner." murmured Ulquiorra.

"YAY! Thank you! Let's go to your room!" Orihime took Ulquiorra's hand, and was about to dart right out of the dining room, but Ulquiorra stopped her.

"Orihime, you don't even know where you're going."

"Oh…true." Orihime chortled. "Lead the way."

Ulquiorra led Orihime through more corridors, and up the stairs until they reached his room. Late morning sun shone generously into his room, leaving a shine and shadow on everything. Orihime's eyes scanned the room curiously. Ulquiorra passed her, and made a beeline for the bookshelves. He then started rummaging through all of it. Orihime found it very amusing, the way he'd carefully pull a book from the shelf, open it, take a quick read, and either frown or stay emotionless. She liked the way he seemed so into it. So, she decided to get in on the action. Orihime crept closer to him, so she was standing right next to him, and could see the letters in the book.

"What are you looking for?"

Orihime watched a frown pull at Ulquiorra's eyebrows, a slight grimace, then pushed the book back onto the shelf.

"A heavy read…" he murmured.

"Ugh." Orihime made a face. "Do you have anything that isn't like an obituary to read?"

Ulquiorra glanced at her.

"That depends, Orihime. What's an obituary to one person is a colorful spectrum for others." Ulquiorra replied, fishing for some other book.

"Hmm, so like the saying one person's trash is another's treasure?"

"Yes. Less cliché, naturally."

Ulquiorra flipped through the bed, found it was 'heavy' enough, and went off reading on his couch. He was interrupted shortly, though, to his annoyance.

"Can I open the window? I want fresh air…"

Ulquiorra was about to point out the air outside is thin and dry, but waved a hand, and murmured "Yes".

He ignored Orihime fumbling with the locks, but then he heard a click, and the windows were open. The air from outside came rushing in. Ulquiorra felt a soft breeze play with his hair. The soft silence of wind filled the room. Ulquiorra turned his pages, and Orihime played with her hands and looked out the window. They both lost track of time…

* * *

Hehe...those of you who are complying with my rules, thanks very much. I love you people for that. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: More Than Food is Being Cooked

If Bleach were mine…it isn't, but…ah, never mind.

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY 10/4/07 SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!! ...hehe, I'm 14.

* * *

The white, silent halls of Las Noches lost the silence as two pairs of hurried footsteps. Orihime was sprinting to catch up with Ulquiorra, who was walking at running or sprinting speed. His uniform was billowing out behind him. Orihime was positive that anyone who ran into him would be pushed aside or run over, with the speeding he was walking at.

Ulquiorra couldn't believe it. It was five thirty. He would be the first to admit being a book addict, but this was ridiculous. Orihime was staring out the window for seven hours, like the vast Hueco Mundo was that interesting, and Ulquiorra finished his book just a few minutes ago. And now, he found himself practically running down to the kitchen. He couldn't believe his stupidity.

Ulquiorra reached the kitchen, threw open the door, and shoved the panting Orihime in. He flicked on the lights, revealing an old style Spanish kitchen—and it was not white! It was composed of many colors, subdued oranges , tans, and nice pored burnt orange tile. Spices were practically floating in the air, to Ulquiorra's slight irritation. He suppressed a small sneeze, and glanced at Orihime. Orihime's eyes were glimmering, and the longing feeling she was radiating was almost palpable. He saw her eyes were on the kitchen island, clean, and calling her. Orihime started on a slow walk to the island, while Ulquiorra started ripping apart the pantry and fridge for ingredients. He threw a pound of ground beef onto the island, landing with a hard thud, and then gathered and onion and green pepper, tossing them onto the island. Orihime shrieked when an onion hit her hand. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, and went to the pantry to horde more ingredients. Within a minute, Ulquiorra had begun to chop onions.

"Can I chop?" Orihime asked…it was actually a plead, but…

Ulquiorra briefly looked at her.

"Yes…" Ulquiorra mumbled, blinking quickly. Orihime became a bit squinty eyed, and rubbed her eyes.

"I love onions, especially in cereal, but they always make me cry." Orihime said spontaneously.

Ulquiorra nodded. He wasn't even going to ask why she put onions in cereal…that thought made him shudder.

Orihime suddenly sniffled.

Though Ulquiorra was quite at that point yet, he was frowning and trying keep the burning sensation from making him tear up. He hated onions, everything about them. Especially the smell.

"Can I chop now?" Orihime asked, rubbing her eyes.

Ulquiorra handed her the knife and let her chop. He went over to the windows, and opened them, letting in direct light from a blazing sunset. The window let in cold, dry air. Ulquiorra sighed lightly, and took a second to enjoy the weather.

Ulquiorra returned to the island to start fixing up the pot, tossing in the ground beef.

"Ow!" cried Orihime.

Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder at her.

"What?"

"I cut myself…"

Ulquiorra turned all the way around, and took a step over to her.

"Which finger?"

"Left index…" Orihime replied.

Ulquiorra plucked her left hand from the cradle her right hand was, and examined the cut. He had to say, it was a nice, deep cut, and was bleeding more than he expected. Ulquiorra noticed that there were a few flecks of red on the onion. Hoping to give Grimmjow hepatitis, he saved the infected onions chunks for later, and threw the clean onion pieces into the pan.

"Are you alright, Orihime?"

Orihime scowled.

"Yeah…it hurts…"

"Go wash it." Ulquiorra pointed to a fancy sink.

Ulquiorra didn't want to waste any time. He was making chili 'fast style'. Meaning: extremely high temperatures and messes. Not that he cared. The slaves would take care of it later. He was just worried about Orihime. A few months back, when it was Ulquiorra and Stark's turn to cook 'fast style', Stark burnt a chunk of skin off, and it took months to heal. Ulquiorra didn't want that to happen to the klutzy Orihime.

'Fast stlye' chili means it'll look like something that came from a gory operation in the ER, but tastes decent. So, Ulquiorra threw everything into the pot, and put the burner on the highest it could go. While Orihime wasn't looking, he slipped some tiny ceros in to cook it faster.

Ulquiorra's eyes didn't leave the clock. He stared at the clock like it held the meaning of life. Not that it did, or anything. He was just calculating how much time Aizen would have to wait.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Grimmjow poked his head in, taking a deep whiff of the chili-ed air. He shot Ulquiorra a malicious grin, and then left.

Orihime giggled, Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, clearly not amused.

Once the chili was bubbling, and looked ready, Ulquiorra let the slaves take care of it. Today was the cook's day off, so the Espada would have to cook. Ulquiorra dragged Orihime by the arm off to the dining hall, where they sat with the other Espada, waiting for a meal. However, he had left special instructions for the slaves to throw the infected onions into Grimmjow's plate.

Today, Ulquiorra was sandwiched between Szayel and Orihime. Stark and Noitora were both nearby, and for that reason, Orihime was left to listen in on the conversation between the four. Ulquiorra knew she wouldn't interrupt. She was too afraid of them, but even so, they both knew Ulquiorra wouldn't let them touch her.

The Espada were chattier than usual, and gossip was passed around like party favors. Aizen was at the head of the table, watching them all and gossiping with Gin and Tousen.

The slaves brought the food in. Grimmjow, as expected, was the first to insult the chili's appearance.

"What the fuck is that? Liver and gore, with a few ulcers?"

"It's chili, dumbass." Stark retorted, frowning.

"Doesn't look like it." snorted Grimmjow. "I'm not eating it."

Under his breath, Stark muttered "Fuck you…"

Noitora heard that, and snickered. Szayel allowed a smile.

Even though Ulquiorra agreed with them, he quickly reprimanded them.

"Don't swear like that in front of Orihime." He said firmly. His green eyes were so cold, anyone would instantly do what he says.

"Sorry," Stark apologized flippantly.

Orihime flashed a smile at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra nodded at her, and went straight into eating his chili. Orihime was stunned at how good it was. She had never eaten anything like it.

"Damn, Ulquiorra, did you make this fast style?" asked Stark, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes." replied Ulquiorra. "Orihime helped, too."

"Only until I cut myself…" Orihime murmured.

"I'll fix it!" volunteered Szayel. "I will! Seriously!"

"Szayel, you're going to amputate her finger with your doctor skills." Noitora said.

"Please." Szayel waved a hand. "Remember when I filled in your cavity, Ulquiorra? It went well!"

Ulquiorra made a face.

"After you put my molar back in." he added.

"Well, we had no anesthesia—"

"Whatever." Stark said, ending the discussion. "Alright, people. Look down at the end of the table. We're gonna watch Grimmjow get bitchslapped."

"Yess!" hissed Noitora. Szayel looked extremely pleased.

Down at the end of the table, Grimmjow was poking Yami's arm. Yami was noticeably trying to ignore him, but he eventually gave in.

"What?"Yami demanded.

"Can I try your chili?"

"No."

Stark was laughing like a closet lunatic now, Szayel looked very eager, and Noitora was a cross between Szayel and Stark. Ulquiorra had a smug expression on his face, and leaned forward with interest. Orihime didn't really know what to think.

Grimmjow snaked his fork into Yami's chili, but instead, Grimmjow received a slap on the back of his head, something that made Stark hoot with laughter.

"_OW_!" shrieked Grimmjow.

Grimmjow gave Yami a menacing look, and then slapped Yami back.

"Just eat it!" Yami said in exasperation. "I'm not dead yet, so get eating, dumbass."

"Fuck you…"

Everyone heard Grimmjow, but no one cared. They talked about their own things. In the end Grimmjow did eat his chili. Ulquiorra continued to watch him a look on his face that would be perceived by others as mischievous or haughty. Ulquiorra wasn't planning on telling anybody that Orihime's blood was in his chili, and that his spit was in there too. Ulquiorra felt slightly immature for doing so, but he just _had _to do it. He was extremely pleased that Grimmjow had eaten all of it, and even licked the plate clean.

The chance of him contracting hepatitis was highly unlikely, but even serious, cold people like Ulquiorra can dream, and hope a little.

* * *

HEY PEOPLE! The last sentence is practically giving the next chapter away…well, not really…but there's something I enjoyed writing coming up. Stay tuned! **The next chapter gets extreme, trust me. **

**And, the part about the root canal, that refers to my other fic...When Root Canals Go Wrong. It's my birthday...so, REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Lighter Than A Breeze 

It ain't mine!

* * *

Dinner was finished off with an insanely sweet cake that nearly made Ulquiorra gag. Orihime enjoyed the cake, but only after putting chili on it…another thing that brought Ulquiorra near puking. She thought it was hilarious, but Ulquiorra did not. And now, the two were on the way to Ulquiorra's room.

Ulquiorra led Orihime through more corridors, and up the stairs until they reached his room. The moon's light shone generously into his room, leaving a shine and shadow on everything. The whole atmosphere was really relaxed. Orihime looked out the window blankly, at the velvety sky. She liked the way it seemed to cover the endless desert with a protective sort of blanket. So, she decided to get in on the action. Orihime crept closer to him, so she was standing right next to him, and could see the letters in the book.

"What are you looking for?"

Orihime watched a frown pull at Ulquiorra's eyebrows, a slight grimace, and then push the book back onto the shelf.

"Something about death…" he muttered, with a glance at her.

"Again…?"

Orihime smiled softly, and skipped over to his windows. Meanwhile, Ulquiorra had become absorbed in the book right on the spot. Even from where she was standing, Orihime could see his eyes moving from side to side quickly, and she could practically see him taking in what he was reading.

"Hey, Ulquiorra, how do I open the windows? I can't figure it out, even though I did a while ago."

Ulquiorra, nose in book, strode over to Orihime, and told her to slide the locks at the bottom, and then push up. Orihime did as told, and a blast of cold air hit her. Her arms flew around her, and she started shivering.

"Whoa! It's cold!"

"Naturally; it's the middle of December." He said softly. "You can get a blanket from my closet." Ulquiorra pointed to an inconspicuous door in a corner of his room. He went directly to the couch, where he continued his absorption in the book.

The seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes hours.

The pure white moon shone with great light, moonbeams shooting into the room. Currently, that was the only source of light they had. Orihime didn't mind. She was laying on Ulquiorra's couch, in a dreamy state of mind. She felt like she was back home, snuggled under a blanket (white of course) and just being lazy there. The sky was a perfect navy, starless, and velvety. It seemed as though the moon has absorbed all of the stars, making it glow more, and be much larger than Orihime remembered the moon in the real world to be. It was breezy tonight. Every so often, a light zephyr would come along and slip though the blanket. She was in her own paradise. It was quiet, but not quiet like everything were dead. Her thoughts drifted, her eyes drooped, and she plunged into a dream.

Ulquiorra stood over Orihime, hands in his pockets. Her pale skin, her bright hair shone more in the moon. Orihime was fast asleep, and comfortable. He could tell by the way she was tangled in the blanket. Orihime looked surreal. Ulquiorra himself was somewhat dazed just staring at her, watching her. Though Ulquiorra was frowning softly, he had no hostility. He was deciding something. Ulquiorra stepped closer to Orihime, and bent over her. He leaned in closer to her, so that their faces were almost touching. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Making up his mind then and there, Ulquiorra delivered his feelings for her in the most discreet way he could. And that night, Orihime felt no more than a soft, sweet breeze touch her cheek.

The next morning, Orihime woke up in Ulquiorra's bed, twisted under the sheets. Orihime realized she must've been carried here. Orihime looked around the room, expecting to see Ulquiorra…or at least maybe his hair or something. But no. All she saw was the white of his room, and, like usual, a book open on his desk. But looking closer, she saw that on the bedside table closest to her, there was a small piece of paper. Orihime, with her natural curiosity, picked it up. It was addressed to her, and this was the first time she had seen Ulquiorra's handwriting. Orihime focused all of her attention on his, perfect, erect handwriting, and how nicely the pen had written, that she barely caught what the note said. It said something about him being out, and to not look for her. Unfortunately, Orihime didn't read that part—she was too busy admiring his script. And so, Orihime put on her shoes and started to hunt for him. Orihime did wonder where he had gone. It was only nine in the morning. Shrugging off her thought, Orihime draped a blanket over herself. She couldn't help but notice Ulquiorra had left his 'scent' on it sometime ago. Orihime smiled, thinking of him, and where he was now. She could picture him taking down enemies, or conversing with Aizen in his usual cold and sophisticated manner. She was so accustomed to seeing him every morning, not seeing him was making her panicky.

Orihime quickened her pace, and looked around, paranoid. The Espada were most likely prowling around. Orihime took a corner, and ran straight into Yami…again. She got a crick in her neck just looking up at him.

"What are you, some sort of freaking mouse?" he demanded, almost jokingly. "You're always running around like that."

"Umm…" Orihime laughed nervously. "Squeak Squeak?"

Yami snickered, and patted her head with a massive hand, knocking Orihime off balance, and walked right past her. It took Orihime a minute to realize what had just happened, and two minutes to get her neck back to normal. First of all, Yami was not that nice, and second of all, he probably would've, could've, and should've killed her right there if she had run into him. But instead he was nice to her…what did Ulquiorra put in his food?

Orihime regained composure, and went around the hallways aimlessly, looking for Ulquiorra. But then something caught her eye.

_Si __entras, __muere__s i_t said on a metal plate on one large, tall door stretching high up to the ceilings. And under that, _El __Laboratorio__ de Szayel __Aporro __Grantz..._Szayel's laboratory…Orihime had no idea what the top part said, but she went in anyway, thinking she could ask Szayel about Ulquiorra's whereabouts. Orihime was about to skip into the place, but stopped and held back a shriek when she saw how dingy and dodgy it was. There were so many crazy machines…and very scary things—she suddenly heard something like shattering glass, or ice giving way. It made her cold, suddenly. On an old, beat up counter, there was a jar with something that looked like a human heart, secreting pus. Orihime looked away, feeling her heart speed up. She relaxed a little when she heard voices, not that they were too reassuring.

"UGH!"

"What is it, Stark?"

"DISGUSTING! It's burning a hole through my gloves."

"Oh…that…yeah. Just get rid of that, there, and then remove his guts." Orihime recognized the softer, quieter voice of Szayel. She could almost see a nervous smile on him.

"Uh-uh. I am NOT doing that. Make Ulquiorra do it. Where is he, anyway? I bet he fled from here. What disgusting thing did you make him see…?" Stark asked, slightly awed.

"I'm right here." Orihime ears perked up, hearing Ulquiorra's hard voice echo in the ceilings, and then a sort of slight cracking sound.

"Oh, good. Get rid of the guts there—"

"You want me to eviscerate him? Is there any purpose of that? I have to smash this--"

"Yes. We're going to inspect intestines."

"May I ask WHY?" demanded Stark.

While they argued, Orihime crept closer to where the voices were coming from, deep inside the lab. She passed by many infected things, but stopped when the three came into view. The first thing she saw was Ulquiorra's backside. He seemed to have been poring over something. Orihime ducked under a table just as Ulquiorra turned around, pocketing something that glinted in the light. She saw him frown. Orihime took note he was wearing a lab coat. She couldn't get her eyes off of him. Why did a bloody lab coat make him look so much more dignified?

"Szayel, get over here." He said, breaking Szayel out of his argument. "What is this?"

Szayel let go of the front Stark's shirt, and walked over to Ulquiorra's side.

"What's what?"

Ulquiorra pushed his sleeve up, and pointed at something.

"_That_."

"Ah, yes, that…this body, well, it's not very fresh…as you can see…"

"I know that. I killed him two weeks ago." Ulquiorra said coldly.

Orihime took this moment of silence to inspect the situation better. Ulquiorra and Szayel were bent over something that looked like a human body. A white sheet covered the head and upper chest, and another sheet covered hips down. Orihime could tell it was man they were inspecting. Autopsy, maybe? Orihime saw Ulquiorra's hand come up out of the body, and saw he was wearing rubber gloves up to his elbows. Up to his wrists, they were a dark, thick red color.

"The blood st—"

"It's the spleen." Ulquiorra said, jamming his other hand in there.

"Very good!" Szayel exclaimed. "Notice all the blood cells stay there, after the person is dead."

Ulquiorra didn't reply.

Orihime was nearly out from under the table, both with disgust and interest. Ulquiorra's right arm jerked, and tightly held in his hand, thick dark blood dripping from something he held tightly in his hand. He had ripped out the spleen…Orihime shuddered and swallowed wavering nausea.

Szayel was looking at it with shiny, glimmering eyes.

Stark had his hands over his eyes, and kept murmuring "ew ew ew ew".

Orihime heard a slight "Ugh" come from Ulquiorra.

"Isn't it great?" gushed Szayel, clasping his hands together. Orihime almost giggled, and to her shock, Ulquiorra whirled around. He saw her, and his mouth dropped a little. He lunged for her, and ripped her out from under the table with his clean hand. Next thing Orihime knew, she was being smothered in Ulquiorra's lab coat. Not that she minded much. Ulquiorra smelled delicious, even when bloody and with a touch of heavy disinfectant.

"Stark, tira la frisa ensima de el. Si lo ve..."

Orihime had no idea what language Ulquiorra was speaking in, but she nearly melted there when she heard it. Like Ulquiorra's voice wasn't melodious and sonorous enough when he was speaking, but add a completely different language and you have something that made Orihime's knees weak on the spot.

The lab coat was ripped off Orihime, and Orihime fell forward, now that there was nothing holding her up. She landed in Ulquiorra's arms, but when she looked up she froze.

Ulquiorra was always a bit intimidating, she would admit to that, with his sharp eyes and hard expression, but this reminded her of a while back when she attempted to call him 'Ulqui-chan'. Ulquiorra was looking down on her, like he normally was, but with more than anger in his eyes. If Orihime stared a bit longer into his eyes before practically being forced to look down by his gaze, she would've caught the disappointment they stared at her with.

"Orihime." Ulquiorra said quietly. He frowned and shook his head. "Leave this instant. I'll talk to you later—"

"No!" cried Orihime.

Ulquiorra glared at her.

"Orihime." He said this sharply. Orihime cowered a little. She wanted to know what was going on here, and why they were all so tense. Over Ulquiorra's shoulder, she could see Szyael nervously smoothing out a sheet over the body, and Stark was standing right in front of the body, glaring at her.

"I refuse to leave!" Orihime said. "Something fishy is going on over here! First, you don't sleep in, second, you're here all spastic—"

"Orihime, do not make me knock you out."

"What…?"

"Leave this instant."

"Nope!"

Ulquiorra glanced at Stark. Stark snickered.

Orihime hardly felt herself being thrown over Ulquiorra's shoulder, so she was staring at his back, and hanging upside down. Orihime started kicking and screaming, flailing and thrashing, but she never felt Ulquiorra waver. All he felt were his hard muscles that hurt her.

"Let me go!" she screamed.

"Woman."

Orihime took in a gasp, as he hadn't used that term of address for her in a long time. She instantly stopped thrashing, and took in her location. She hadn't even felt herself being taken out of the lab, so she was up in his room.

"Um, please put me down…"

Ulquiorra, with a deft move, dropped her on the ground, and gazed at her with disappointment and annoyance for the longest time. He drew breath to scold her harshly with such a tiny inhale, but Orihime cut him off.

"Ulquiorra…who's blood is it that stains your shirt?"Orihime asked quietly, playing with her hands. Her old habit was back.

"That does not matter." Ulquiorra said severely. "What matters is that you intentionally disobeyed my orders. In the note, I told you to stay put and not come looking for me. You did. What my affairs are do not include you, meaning that you do not ask me such questions. That is information only some are privy to. And, you are not one of them."

Orihime wished she were invisible. She couldn't take the look he was giving her.

"But…"

"I will be back soon."

Ulquiorra turned on his heel, and left. Left pondering his words, Orihime sat on his couch and thought, what, just what was it that had made him so tense and…well, angry? It wasn't only her. Orihime only wished she knew who was under the alabaster sheets.

* * *

Thanks for reading! PLEASE REVIEW!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Comatose

Bleach isn't mine. Duh.

HEY GUYS! I wanted to let you know this is the _decisive _chapter of the story. It will determine how much you hate me or how much you love me. Enjoy this chapter—it's not the last.

* * *

Orihime had gotten over sitting around and brooding about the dead body under the sheets. Though the image still haunted her, she had figured out that Ulquiorra was not going to give her any info. So, the next day, Orihime was bouncing around. Literally.

"Ulquiorra!" she sang, bouncing on his bed. "Wake up!"

Orihime had learned many things. She now knew to not ask Ulquiorra about his 'affairs', but judging by the way Ulquiorra saw it, she hadn't learned to not wake him up at ridiculous times.

Ulquiorra rolled onto his side, and threw an arm over his eyes, moaning softly.

"Let's wake up! Let's go eat! Let's go get into a fight with Grimmjow!" Orihime continued to sing.

Ulquiorra found it unnatural, unless she was PMSing or high. He preferred the latter.

Orihime continued to bounce around, until Ulquiorra nerves were frayed and twisted, and he couldn't take it anymore. Ulquiorra shot up.

"Be quiet." He hissed, throwing a pillow at her with brute force. Ulquiorra wasn't feeling too well, and didn't want to deal with this nuisance.

Orihime stopped, tried to regain her balance, and studied him with her mouth open. Her gray eyes were wide, and her arms hung limply by her side. Ulquiorra scowled at her.

"Haha!" she giggled. "Your hair! It's standing up on end!" Orihime jumped one more time, and crawled closer to Ulquiorra, who just glowered at her. Orihime fingered the little wisp of hair sticking up from the side of Ulquiorra's hair. Orihime noted it looked like a brushstroke or something, composed of the same jet ink as the rest of his hair. Running her finger over his soft little plume of hair, Orihime giggled and smiled a bit more. Ulquiorra slapped her hand away, frowning. He slid off the bed calmly, and made a beeline for his bathroom.

"What are you doing?" asked Orihime curiously.

"Shower," Ulquiorra replied curtly.

Orihime did notice a faint disinfect/bleach-y scent around him. She smiled at him, before laying back on his bed and daydreaming.

The hours passed, the boredom among the two increased. A hostile silence returned, but only because of Ulquiorra. Orihime was her happy self.

Ulquiorra, like usual, sat on his couch, but instead of reading he sat there frowning. Orihime was behind him, twirling his thick, damp hair around his fingers. Orihime gave the strands short little pulls, but that was not what was annoying Ulquiorra. Orihime only knew that much. His lips were pressed tightly together, and his hands were clasped in his lap. Orihime's hand brushed his arm, but even under the fabric she could feel his tense muscles. Orihime stopped messing with his hair, and looked up trying to see what he was looking at. Beyond the glass of his window, storms were approaching. The sky was a hazy green, and small wisps of sand flew in all directions, blown by a soft, fickle wind.

"Ulquiorra…?"

"Yes?"

"Something's not right."

"Everything is fine." He answered.

"No, I mean…" Orihime gave up. She looked down. "I mean…never mind…but will I ever know who it was?"

"You're still wondering about the autopsy?" Ulquiorra said, in a softer tone of voice. Ulquiorra didn't quite know if it was an actual autopsy. They already knew the cause of the victim's death: by the blade of Ulquiorra's zanpakutou. But even so, Ulquiorra couldn't think of a better word.

"No, you won't know who it was." Ulquiorra replied quickly.

"But…"

Ulquiorra turned to face Orihime. He watched her cower under his glower.

"I don't want to hear it, Orihime."

Ulquiorra would've added more to that, but at that moment the door flew open. Ulquiorra's tension wavered into annoyance and anger, but when he saw who was at the door, he relaxed a bit. It was only Szayel, frowning.

"Oh-- am I interrupting something?" Szayel asked, blinking.

Ulquiorra gave Orihime a quick look.

"No, Szayel. What is it?"

Szayel looked down, seeming to be ashamed.

"Well…the…victim. Yes…_it_…"

"Spit it out." Ulquiorra said sharply.

"It's showing signs of life!" Szayel exclaimed, waving his arms around. "Come kill it again!"

Ulquiorra's mouth hung a little bit open. He got up off the couch, and walked to the door quickly. He stopped, and looked over his shoulder at Orihime.

"Do not come with me, or I really will kill you." Ulquiorra said that, massaging the hilt of his sword, and closed the door. Orihime could hear his footsteps on the other side of the door.

Orihime, though she knew she was risking her life, decided to follow. There was something about his behavior lately that Orihime didn't like. He was about to snap. Orihime could already feel there was a storm coming. One with rain, another with tears.

With a quick prayer, Orihime silently closed the door of Ulquiorra's room, and went in a trancelike walk down to the laboratory. She felt an odd pang in her every time she heard noises reverberate off the blank walls. Fear, anxiety…it was all inside, but she knew it probably showed in her face too. Her pace quickened, when she thought she heard a derisive laugh from behind. Orihime knew she was pretty much walking into death, and into that other victim's state. Upon entering, Orihime froze.

"…quiet..." She heard Ulquiorra finish a sentence. "…good hands."

Ulquiorra, to her dismay, was talking much quieter than usual, and with a hint of sarcasm raising the hairs on her neck.

"Kill him already!" she heard Szayel shriek.

Orihime heard something she had never heard before, and then a sort of dull thud, followed by a splatter. Orihime closed her eyes tightly, trying to get any images that had formed out of her head, and hugged herself as she crept deeper into the laboratory. She stopped, and hid behind a few bookshelves. Orihime saw a disgusting splatter of black on the floor, and the blade of Ulquiorra's sword come down onto something, and then a thud on the ground. Orihime turned away, stomach churning.

"Ulquiorra, you overdid it." Szayel seemed to be annoyed. "You didn't have to sever him. That's just messed up."

"Now he won't surprise us with little ghost tricks." Stark put in quietly.

Orihime was too afraid to look. But she did so anyway. All she was a table, a lot of blood, and a quick flash of color, all in one second before she was knocked out

Orihime woke up on the floor of Ulquiorra's room, staring out the window. A huge, white moon lit up the room, and silhouetted against the moon was Ulquiorra himself. His eyes were unwavering as he stared at her with his eternal frown. Orihime wanted to close her eyes to the fury and disappointment shot at her, but she couldn't. Ulquiorra slowly shook his head, and turned back to the moon in his usual demeanor.

Orihime decided to sit up. She ran her finger along the tile, afraid to look up. The silence became heavy with resentment.

But, to Orihime's surprise, she didn't have to slice the silence in half.

"Orihime Inoue…"

"Y-yes?" she stuttered.

"Has he always been so persistent?" Ulquiorra asked softly. "He wouldn't die."

Orihime looked at him, just to get an answer. Nothing came to her; he wasn't even looking at Orihime.

"Um, what are you talking about?"

Ulquiorra turned all the way around, head tipped to one side. He studied her curiously.

"He's persistent to the point of irritation."

"Who are you talking about?"

Orihime stood up, and walked calmly over to Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra eyes didn't leave her. He stood rooted on the spot, hands behind his back.

"Ulquiorra…what does this have to do with that person in the lab?"

"You don't remember anything, do you, Orihime?" he asked in a clipped tone of voice.

"About what?" Orihime was becoming exasperated. Ulquiorra was too.

"About what you saw today, in the lab." He returned coldly.

Orihime winced, and looked down.

"I saw blood. Your sword. More blood, and…"

Ulquiorra looked at her expectantly—expectantly, but with a glare.

Orihime tried to remember, but she couldn't.

"In a second's glance, Orihime, you picked up more that I thought. But did you see anything…familiar?"Ulquiorra said the last sentence in a strange, knowing way. Orihime shuddered. What was he getting at? Ulquiorra wasn't one to beat around the bush. He was strict and to the point. But why was he doing this?

"Just you." Orihime whispered. "I promise. Because if I saw anything familiar—Ulquiorra…!"

"What?"

"I remember! There was your sword, and something black near it!"

"Gore, coagulated blood." Ulquiorra replied, as if correcting her.

"No, no! I remembered that already! But I mean…it was under the sheets…" Orihime gasped, at the realization. "A…Shinigami."

"Right." Ulquiorra said hesitantly. "A Shinigami I killed two weeks ago."

"What are you getting at?" Orihime demanded, stepping closer.

Her fists were clenched at her side, and for a reason she did not know, tears welled up in her eyes. He had killed a Shinigami, the people Orihime was still thankful to, the people that she had been ripped away from. Aside from her friends, of course. Orihime put her hands on Ulquiorra's shoulder, and shook him gently. He continued to look down on her. Ulquiorra seemed mildly peeved. He relaxed, and looked grave suddenly. But in the way he looked at her, there was something apologetic, but Orihime couldn't quite point it out.

Then, Orihime knew why she was being so persistent. Two weeks ago, Orihime was still swimming through silence, looking for a word. A sudden feeling of something being lost. A reiatsu, diminishing, and finally, disappearing, somewhere far away. Orihime couldn't tell who it was, or if it was someone close to her. Even so, she didn't want to know who it was that had died, or even if it was the same person Ulquiorra beheaded earlier. Orihime was a tornado of emotions, her heart pounded so hard she was positive Ulquiorra could hear it. Orihime was deaf to it; she only listened to her worried thoughts.

"Ulquiorra, don't tell me—"

Orihime stopped, feeling something take her hand. Ulquiorra took Orihime's shaking hand in his. Staring into her eyes with utmost compassion and sorrow was the same person that abducted her from the real world, and from her true love. Orihime was transfixed and rigid with anxiety. She felt like screaming, laughing, and most of all, crying. But she couldn't. She could barely breathe right now.

"I'm…" Ulquiorra was either searching for words, or trying to get the words off his tongue. He couldn't say it, and Orihime could tell.

"I'm sorry, Orihime."

Orihime stared, mouth open, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Ichigo Kurosaki is dead. I killed him, two weeks ago." Ulquiorra stated blankly.

"And…you…cut off his head today?" Orihime asked hoarsely. "Why?"

Ulquiorra let go of her hand, and turned around, staring out at the moon. Orihime felt like her insides were collapsing. What Ulquiorra said was true. If someone smooth as him had issues getting the words out, then…it had to be true, but Orihime wouldn't believe it. She only believed it when she saw Ulquiorra with a finger up to his lip, frowning like usual. He looked like something was lodged in his gut, ripping him to pieces. And, along with that, he looked like he was about to be sick.

"Because Aizen-sama told me to." He replied in a whisper.

"But why?" wailed Orihime, wiping her eyes. She wouldn't believe Ichigo was dead, yet. She didn't believe it until Ulquiorra said something that she knew she'd never forget.

"It was not my choice, Orihime. If I were under my own command, I wouldn't have killed Ichigo. Of all things I hate, it's watching you pine away, under the sand of Hueco Mundo." Ulquiorra said. Orihime couldn't interpret his words. She was either becoming deaf with the fearful silence, or hallucinating. He still wasn't looking at her.

Orihime held her breath, expecting something else.

"Aizen-sama is the one I was created for. Defy him, and death would come seconds later. I had no choice."

"Yes, you did! You didn't have to kill him!" screamed Orihime.

"I did." Ulquiorra was keeping his calm. But it was so eerie. "Because if I didn't…"

Orihime came closer to Ulquiorra, hands pulled up to her chest. Orihime took small sobs, and tried to ignore a breaking pain in her heart. It was like losing a limb—emotionally, of course. You can still feel it even after it's gone. Silver tears broke into different streams and rolled down her smooth cheek, and dripped off her chin. Orihime tapped Ulquiorra's shoulder. He didn't move, and stood there in his stoic demeanor.

Ulquiorra sighed, a sigh heavier than overcast skies, and turned around.

Orihime stared down at the ground, messing with her fingers.

"Ulquiorra…could I…use your shoulder?" Orihime asked meekly.

Silence ensued...

"Of course."

Orihime threw her arms around Ulquiorra. She didn't mean to squeeze air out of him, but she heard him exhale in a fast, sudden way, and immediately thought she had hugged him too hard. Then, the truth seeped into her mind, and took over. Orihime suddenly pulled out of Ulquiorra's grasp.

"You killed him!" she screamed hoarsely.

Ulquiorra didn't reply. He just gave her an impassive look.

"I knew this would happen." sighed Ulquiorra, folding his arms. "But I never knew it'd take you so much time to realize it."

"You…you traitor!"

"I am not a traitor."

"You are!"

"No, Orihime, I am not." He contradicted coolly. "I never said I'd preserve Ichigo's life."

Orihime took in a sob sharply, realizing that he was correct.

"Do you know how much I'm going to miss him? You took me away from everything! My friends, everything! But you didn't…you never said you'd take them away from me forever! How could you be so coldhearted? It's evil! You're so…horrible!" Orihime screamed, pointing at him in an accusing manner. Orihime noticed she struck a nerve in Ulquiorra. And, she was quite afraid she had really made him mad. He pressed his lips tightly together, and shrugged his shoulders as if to stretch them out.

"Coldhearted, you say?" he repeated, as if challenging her to say it again.

"Yes…" Orihime said, taking a half step back.

"Orihime, what Aizen says goes. I'm here to…watch you." Ulquiorra would've substituted the watch for protect, but she'd never catch that. "If I defied him, I'd be dead, leaving you at the mercy of others Aizen doesn't trust so much. It could've been your life."

"What does life matter anymore seeing that all my favorite aspects of it are gone? It's not worth living!" cried Orihime. She wrung her hands and cried harder. All her anger and pent up fury was being taken out on her hands, passing and being squeezed through each finger, like she was wringing her worry out of them.

"You really think I enjoy seeing you in this state? I did not, in my intentions, need to kill Ichigo." Ulquiorra said quietly. He didn't look so angry anymore. But Orihime still stepped back.

"What are you talking about? You'd be the first to kill him! You love torturing—"

Ulquiorra came very close, and looked down on her.

"This is not torture. I could give you an example of real torture by sending you back to your cell, no meals for a week." Ulquiorra said darkly. "The fact you're living within such proximity of me disturbs Aizen-sama. I'm risking much more than my life for you, Orihime, a worthless little girl who can't mature."

"Not true!" she shrieked. "This was all on your intention!"

"My intentions are what will help Aizen reach his goal. Because, Orihime—"

Ulquiorra reached forward, and plucked her hairpins out of her hair.

"This," he said, indicating the hairpins, "is what Aizen wants. He's only using you, the wielder. I don't need to be wasting my time with you. If you want to call me a traitor, a sadist, do so. But…" Ulquiorra suddenly trailed off.

Orihime, who was looking down, heard the silence and looked up. She was shocked when she saw that Ulquiorra looked almost near tears himself—and if not near tears, then deeply moved. Even so, his frown seemed to be of sadness, and without any hinting anger. He held her hairpins in such an unusual way…like he was treasuring them, and never wanted to let go. He looked at her with utmost compassion—not compassion, more like understanding and deep sorrow, and with his bright green eyes staring into hers, everything seemed to stop. Orihime, for a few seconds, was caught in his gaze. Everything was moving too fast. Orihime didn't even quite grasp the moments flying by. But maybe she was just not thinking straight. She watched Ulquiorra twirl the hairpins in his right hand carefully.

"But even though you call me cold hearted…I still love you." Ulquiorra said tensely.

Orihime was positive she had heard him wrong. Ulquiorra was not capable of saying that. He just wasn't. But with a quick glance at him, she saw he meant it. Ulquiorra wouldn't lie. There was nothing but truth in his words, in his fixed, teary gaze. But then, something hit her. Orihime stared at him, mouth open. Realizing she just heard something she hadn't heard in so many years—with her brother gone, and her family too—and thinking that she tried to tell Ichigo that, and how she would've liked to hear those words coming from Ichigo's mouth, she nearly dissolved on the spot in tears. Ulquiorra enveloped her in a deeply romantic and feeling hug. She could feel his hand, moving up and down her back. Orihime felt like killing Ulquiorra, but like melting into his touch. What was it about him that made her feel this way? As she bawled into his tough, tense shoulder, she felt, for a brief moment, that she was back in the real world, with friends, and her old life. But that moment was too brief. It hurt her as the familiar feeling went away, she couldn't bear the ripping she felt in her heart. Orihime felt like capturing the wave of relief and nostalgia in her palm, but she didn't have the chance. It flew away, leaving her empty—and full of a broken silence.

* * *

I have nothing against Ichigo. But I needed him out of the way for what I have planned…

Please review. Did it make ya cry? just kidding. I'm not that good.


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

Chapter 10: Remorse and Reflections 

Bleach is not mine, hence Kubo's.

Oh boy. You guys are going to FLAME me for this chapter...oh well! It just shows how much Hime has changed Ulqui.

One more thing-- it can rain in Hueco Mundo because _**I**_ SAY it can rain in Hueco Mundo. kthx

* * *

Arms around Orihime, Ulquiorra felt horrible. Orihime was squeezing him tightly, like she was clinging onto him for life. Ulquiorra wasn't annoyed with her at all, but he felt so bad. Ulquiorra had never felt this way before. He felt attached to Orihime, for some reason, and now he couldn't believe he had shattered her. Just when she was returning to herself… 

Ulquiorra was perfectly aware of the fact he had to kill Ichigo. He did with unwillingness, but he did it quickly. He knew exactly what waited for him. But he didn't know how to deal with the disconsolate female. Or how to deal with the ripping feeling in his chest that came whenever he thought of her, crying so hard she fell asleep in his arms.

Ulquiorra was still standing, holding the sleepy Orihime. He was absentmindedly rubbing her back, and looking out at the cold, overcast sky. The moon's glow still left light in his room, casting shadows and silver light everywhere. His room looked cold as the dropping temperature, and he felt icy inside. Like he couldn't quite grasp what was going on, though his mind was clear as ever. What was this, and why was it affecting him so?

Ulquiorra was positive he wouldn't sleep tonight.

Slipping an arm under Orihime's knees, and an arm under her shoulders, he gently lifted her off the ground, and pulled the covers back on his bed for her. Ulquiorra gently laid her down, and tucked her in minimally. He glanced at the clock, reading midnight sharp. That reminded him of Orihime…she was indeed swimming in midnight. He wasn't sure her sunshine would shine so brightly again. Ulquiorra ran a hand through his hair, unsure and anxious as to how she'd wake up tomorrow. Though his face didn't show it, he felt remorseful, and was completely angst ridden.

He couldn't bring himself to read. He couldn't think straight. He kept glancing at Orihime…even while dreaming, she looked so sad. Ulquiorra averted his gaze to the ceiling.

After a while, he gave up, and went to bed, sleet falling outside his large window. The sleet was like Orihime's tears. Sharp and bitter, wet and heavy. Even rain can mute shine. Annoyed with everything, he pulled the curtains down, banishing any thoughts having to do with her, and attempted to sleep.

Ulquiorra was tangled under the covers, pulling them covers in toward him, like usual. There wasn't any change.

Well…

Ulquiorra felt something touching his back. He shifted, and frowned, unwilling to open his eyes. He was too comfortable for that, and it was just too early. He didn't feel like facing a weeping Orihime at this time. He was sure his nerves would snap just looking at her. She was too much for him…in a strange sort of way.

Ulquiorra flipped onto his other side, and took in a deep sniff of Orihime's special, fruity scent—it was a sweet, light, sugary aroma, with a touch of strawberries. His eyes flew open, and he was fairly surprised to see her so close to him. Her head bent inward. She was in a fetal position, scrunched up, and her hands were clasped, fingers wrapping around opposite hands. She had fresh tears on her cheeks, though she appeared to be sleeping. Her hair was falling over her shoulders, an orange cascade. She was inches away from Ulquiorra, and had pulled the covers from him closer to her. She had even rolled onto his pillow.

Ulquiorra couldn't look away, though he wanted to. Almost instinctively, he reached out a little, and wiped a tear off her cheek, without waking her up. Orihime frowned a little, and scooted closer to him. Ulquiorra sighed with the weight of the rain falling outside. It was so hard to believe…everything. He was not going to admit, at least to anyone but himself, that he did love her, and that was the problem. Because he felt like this about her, it hurt him inside to see her so broken. But he couldn't defy Aizen either; his life was on the line. Orihime would've been left…truly alone. The thought shot shivers up his spine, and his stomach felt like an ice block. Stealing a quick glance at the tearful, heartbroken Orihime…made him feel like it was her life that had gone, and not Ichigo's. Orihime wouldn't become the same way. Ulquiorra, looking back on the past with her, remembered how she was always so cheery, and though she missed her friends, she'd always return to normal. And, back in that time, he found her extremely annoying…how could he ever have found the little sunshine to be annoying? Now, he couldn't even think of how thought that way of her, with such scorn. The ray of light may not always penetrate darkness, but it penetrated Ulquiorra's heart. Maybe she was right. He was coldhearted. A glacier wearing skin, molded into human form. And, though he didn't know why, Ulquiorra found himself biting his lip to the point where he tasted blood in his mouth.

He realized sitting around was just going to make him feel worse. But Ulquiorra couldn't bring himself out of bed. Later he did, it was just really hard to slip out of the bed. Ulquiorra left a quick note for Orihime, and left the room soundlessly.

There was nothing much to do around Las Noches, at least on this day, and at this time. The only thing Ulquiorra could do at the moment was eat, and that wasn't exactly something he wanted to do…but if it could keep his mind off Orihime, it would work for now. Ulquiorra took the horrendously long walk down the kitchen, and there he saw that most of the Espada were there, to annoyance. He didn't feel like dealing with people of such low intelligence. But the partying and laughter stopped, as soon as Ulquiorra came in.

Grimmjow stopped chewing a donut, Yami stopped chugging orange juice, and Noitora dropped his fork on the plate of eggs he was eating. Stark just blinked, bewildered, and Szayel gazed intently from over the book he was reading.

"Oh my god, who died?" Yami asked, staring at Ulquiorra curiously.

"Are you okay?" Grimmjow asked, raising an eyebrow. " 'Cause you look like you want to hole up somewhere and die."

Ulquiorra didn't think his face gave it away, it never gave anything away, but he was a bit shocked that Grimmjow had noticed.

"I'm-- fine." Ulquiorra replied. His answer was a bit delayed. He couldn't have looked that distraught. He would've noticed.

"You look like you need a hug!" Noitora said, opening his arms.

"No…" Ulquiorra replied, backing away.

"Oh, damn, I just remembered! Aizen wanted me, Szayel, and Ulquiorra!" Stark said rather loudly.

Szayel frowned, but of course, continued to read.

"He does--? OH, of _course _he does." Szayel threw his book on the table, and got up out of his chair.

"Yeah, see you guys later!" Stark ran to Ulquiorra, took him by his jacket, and dragged him out of the kitchen, and down a few hallways. Stark slammed him up against the wall, and looked down on him.

"Are you on something, or, like, what's up with you?" asked Stark. It was rare to see him so awake.

Ulquiorra stared back, but with more hostility than he normally would.

"That is none of your concern." He replied shortly, taking off. "Stay out my affairs."

"Oh, man, Szayel." Stark mumbled. "We've lost him to that lady…"

"Stark, don't be ridiculous—"

"Look who's talking!"

Ulquiorra's pace intensified tenfold. He stepped harder, faster, and was chomping the side of his cheek with anger. Reaching his room, he threw the door open. Ulquiorra was about to give way to his emotions, he was really about to snap, but when he saw something red and shiny on the floor, the breath that would've been a quiet sob turned into a sudden gasp.

His eyes followed the bloody prints on the floor, and with each puddle he saw, he felt a draining feeling in his body. The red was such a contrast to his white tile. It looked unnatural there…

"Orihime?" Ulquiorra called, taking a step deeper into the room. He heard his echo rise up to the ceiling, but he got no reply. The rain kept falling, the echo kept bouncing. In a trancelike state, he walked deeper into his room. Orihime had to be here somewhere in his room. Ulquiorra looked around, in a slight panic, until he saw more red. Orihime was leaning against his window, sobbing. But her left hand, hanging limply by her side, dripped blood. Thick and red.

Ulquiorra walked over to Orihime, who turned away, face in free hand.

"Orihime…"

"I'm sorry…" she whispered. "I'm sorry…don't tell Aizen…I'm irrational, I'm dumb..."

Ulquiorra took Orihime's left arm, pulling a cry from her, and wiped off the blood on it with his hakama. But what was left really struck him.

She had carved "Ichigo" in that arm. His name soon blended in with her own blood, leaving her with a hurting arm, and even more crimson puddles forming on the floor

Ulquiorra stared blankly, not knowing what to think.

Orihime tried to pull away, but Ulquiorra refused to let her go.

"I am sorry as well." Ulquiorra said. He couldn't really say anymore. Even for him, this was too much to deal with.

Orihime didn't look at him; she folded her arms and stared at the floor. Tears mixed with the blood. Her face fell.

"It all hurts…" she mumbled in an undertone. "Everywhere."

"Would you believe me if I told you the same?"

"No." she said shortly. "I'd believe you if I could see it. A tear…something human from you."

Ulquiorra sighed. Since when had she become so straightforward and steadfast? Oh…Ulquiorra knew. Ichigo was the same way...?

He stood there, having no idea what she would do next. He felt a slap coming on. Last time…it hurt. But this time, it would hurt more.

Orihime finally looked up. She looked more distraught than ever before. She stared at him for a moment, and then reached out with her bloody hand. She gently ran a finger down the tear marks on his cheeks. Ulquiorra suppressed a shiver.

"Won't you shed a real tear…? Won't you smile, someday?" Orihime asked serenely. Her hand dropped to her side. Ulquiorra looked at her with his usual demeanor. But then, Orihime felt a quick tug, and found herself in Ulquiorra's arms once again, in a tight, warm hug she never expected from him. Orihime buried her head in his shoulder, but even entranced by the aroma wafting from him, she heard a soft, fast inhale from him. She was hugged tighter, and was almost feeling a bit better…until she felt something fall on her shoulder. Whatever it was, it felt like a raindrop—cold, and biting.

Or…

Orihime smiled to herself.

She hugged him back, with equal feeling, and waited to feel more teardrops soak through her shirt. None followed the first, but that was all she needed to really feel.

Ulquiorra stood there, looking at the floor over Orihime's shoulder. He was hoping Orihime would really believe him after this. He didn't even know anymore…he had not thought she had turned him into such a softie. Or was it his own self that had turned that way…whichever it was, it was real remorse. Did she have her proof now, he wondered?

Orihime was satisfied…to an extent, anyway. She pulled out of his grasp, careful to not stain him with her bloody arm even more. It had stopped bleeding, and now his name stood out sharply on her pale skin…a deep red, soon to fade into a knotted old scar…in her mind, and skin.

"Ulquiorra…" Orihime prompted quietly. She looked at him, a few feet away, and saw he was looking down at floor, turned a little bit away from her. On his back, Orihime's blood stained the sterile white color of his jacket. His inky hair added to the contrast, and in general, it looked very surreal.

Silence; then, a soft "Yes?"

"Did Ichigo…before you killed him…say anything about me?"

Ulquiorra folded his arms tautly.

"He threatened me. But that's no change."

"Did he say anything…about me?"

"No…only for me to not kill you. But that's it." Ulquiorra answered, glancing at her.

"Oh…" Orihime swallowed, to get her throat to stop tightening. "I see. Can we take Ichigo's body…down to the real world someday? I wanted his family to see him, at least one last time."

"Yes." Ulquiorra answered. "But that will be after the investigations are done."

Orihime nodded, clasping her hands together.

Ulquiorra turned around, looking more apologetic than ever. He didn't look at her with even the slightest distaste. He looked like he was about to say something, but then closed his mouth, and frowned a little.

"Don't ever do that again." He said coldly, glancing at the small pools of blood on the ground. He watched with dread as Orihime's eyes swam with more tears. He honestly wondered where she had all that water. She was crying the rain outside.

But even so, Ulquiorra couldn't really think of something to comfort her.

"Yes, of course…" she said sternly, but with a promising tone. Orihime clasped her hands together, and brought them up to her heart. She looked so innocent, and though she was trying to be stoic, Ulquiorra wasn't blind to her true feelings.

Orihime stared at him without waver. He gazed back evenly.

"Do you really mean it, Ulquiorra? That you love me?"

Ulquiorra didn't want to spur another crying jag with her, so he gave her a mildly annoyed look, and decided to stare at the rain falling outside.

"I won't answer that." He said tersely.

"Oh…alright, then."

Orihime made a gesture toward him, but pulled back.

"What is it?"

"Could I give you one more hug? Just for being so great to me?"

Ulquiorra winced, and sighed, defeated. He held out his arms, in which Orihime flew into with such vigor, he almost staggered backward. Ulquiorra felt the air squeezed out of his lungs, but gave Orihime an awkward little pat on the back. Five seconds later, she let go, and stood back.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra."

Though Orihime smiled painfully, more tears spilled over. Ulquiorra shook his head, seeing that they'd be spending more time in an embrace than he thought. But, he didn't mind. Orihime was the one who touched his heart—if he had allowed her to go so deep, then having her in his arms didn't bother him…too much. He didn't really like being poked and prodded.

But for her, the opportunities for her were endless.

* * *

Hmmm…I'm satisfied with how this came out. LOL, if I made you cry, sorry! Please Review... 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Washing Out the Infection Within**

Bleach isn't mine. Geez, that's so annoying to type!

Okay, sooo...I'm sorry I made you guys wait more than a month...I just missed last week's deadline; I was busy partying. But anyway, here you go!

* * *

"It's going to get infected." 

"No it won't!" Orihime replied defiantly. "It'll be fine…" she trailed off with a nervous note in her voice, and averted Ulquiorra's caustic gaze.

Ulquiorra shook his head, and proceeded to drag Orihime to his bathroom to run her cuts under warm water. It had been nagging him for a few hours now, a pinprick in the back of his mind, but he never really noticed how dire the situation was until she casually mentioned she had carved out Ichigo's name using Ulquiorra's zanpakutou…with germs and strange things galore on the tip. Not to mention the fact that not even twenty four hours ago he had beheaded Ichigo…and done other things with that sharp tip.

Orihime continued to protest, much to Ulquiorra's annoyance.

Even so, dragging her into his fancy bathroom silenced her. She stood in awe, admiring the million shades of green adorning it, but her view was pulled down to her arm in the alabaster sink, where a sharp pain erupted.

Ulquiorra rolled up his sleeves, and turned on the faucet, quickly making the water warm up. As it ran over Orihime's cut, the water became opaque with brown tinge. Orihime winced, and tried to pull her arm back. Ulquiorra leaned forward and pushed her arm harder into the water. Orihime looked up at the ceiling trying to conceal pain.

"Ow ow ow!" she cried, trying to wriggle her arm out of Ulquiorra's grasp.

"Sit still!" he hissed.

Orihime bit her lip and watched to see what Ulquiorra was doing. He put soap in one hand, and ran it over Orihime's cuts brusquely, quickly, so the water became a more full color, and she started to bleed again. The poignant stinging returned, but with a more unrelenting ring.

Orihime moaned. Shifting a little, she shot a hurt look at Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra shot her an annoyed glance.

"Don't whine." Ulquiorra muttered, rolling his eyes. "This is nothing but your own doing."

"It hurts…!" Orihime cried shrilly.

"Suck it up."

Ulquiorra ran the soapy, bloody arm under the faucet. He ignored Orihime's pained mews, and washed all the soap away. Once he was satisfied, he turned off the faucet, and let go of her.

"Arm," he said.

Orihime held out her arm, hesitant.

Ulquiorra frowned as he examined it. Ichigo's name stood out boldly in her blood, but around it, her skin was pink…something that worried him a little. Her whole forearm could end up infected.

"And you carved this with my zanpakutou? How deep?" Ulquiorra asked, cocking his head.

"Umm…" Orihime laughed nervously.

Ulquiorra sighed. He really couldn't understand her.

"Never mind then. I suppose we should go get something to eat."

"Yeah!" Orihime smiled and skipped out of his bathroom. Ulquiorra calmly followed. He wondered if this girl was bipolar. A few hours ago, she had succumbed to tears, and now, she bounced around, waiting for Ulquiorra to take her down to the kitchen. But of course, she hadn't been herself the last few hours, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. It made Ulquiorra feel a little sick inside. To think that he caused all of this made him dizzy.

"Well…are we going?" Orihime asked hesitantly, opening his door carefully.

Ulquiorra, who was lost in thought, looked up and nodded, following her out. They paraded silently down the hall, Orihime leading with a bounce in her step.That was until Orihime realized she had no idea where she was going, and let Ulquiorra lead. He knew the palace like he knew himself. Orihime knew the palace as much as she knew Stark. And she had only said hi to him once. They continued down more halls, up more stairs, and eventually met up with Gin…who looked like he was going to a beach, when it was something like sixty degrees inside the palace, and thirty outside.

"O-hayo!" Gin waved, and walked over to them, grinning widely.

Ulquiorra's reply was delayed. He was looking Gin from head to toe, just staring at what he was wearing. Gin was wearing shorts, first of all, and was walking around in flip flops. He had a robe over an ugly old sweater, and looked like he was either a hobo, or actually relaxing. Something Aizen wouldn't do without uniform.

"What," Ulquiorra managed to say. "Are you wearing?"

Gin's smile became a little muted as he looked at himself.

"Aizen ain't feelin' too good. Somethin' 'bout migraines and whatnot." Gin replied. "So, I decided to ditch the ol' uniform, and wear some normal stuff. Everyone else is doin' it."

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow.

"I see—"

"Sounds fun!" chirped Orihime. "Ulquiorra, can we wear something normal? PLEASE? Don't you still have my normal clothing…and isn't there something I can wear that isn't white? White makes me—"

"Stop blabbering." Ulquiorra told her sharply. "Well, Gin…did Aizen say it was okay?"

"Uhh, well…" Gin's smile became a little uncertain. "He kind of got mad at me for asking so many questions, so I just assumed it was okay. I mean, in the kitchen, good ol' Grimmjow's wearing his undies! Well, I'm going to go watch the lesser Arrancar insult each other. Bye bye!"

Gin scurried off somewhere down some darker corridors.

Orihime looked at Ulquiorra as if pleading.

Ulquiorra glared at her. He couldn't resist her big, shiny, deer eyes. He used to be able to shrug off that same look, but he really couldn't today.

"What?"

"Can I—"

"Later." He mumbled, taking her hand and dragging her toward the kitchen. Ulquiorra felt a sense of foreboding before he even heard the racket coming from the kitchen. He had a feeling someone was getting 'crunk' in there. Ulquiorra, now at the door of the kitchen, sighed; afraid of what sights would scar his mind upon entering. He opened the door, leaned his weight on it, and looked inside.

At a disheveled table, Noitora was flipping through a playboy magazine, nibbling on some chocolate. Grimmjow was sitting on the kitchen island eating a donut, and talking at an unnecessarily loud volume. He was wearing shorts as well, but his were boxer shorts…with his uniform's top on. He was talking about some dream he had last night…

"And, the queer gay came up to the other guy, and then I killed them both! Yeah…so…"

Even though Noitora was paying mild attention, Noitora continued to flip through playboy, occasionally asking questions about Grimmjow's dream. Yami was looking over Noitora's shoulder, more into the magazine than anything else. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes and a made a positively disgusted sound in throat.

Szayel was sitting next to Noitora, but reading something in an old, decrepit book. He was wearing his normal uniform, but with a lab coat that resembled an artist's palette over it. A cup of black coffee was sitting next to him. Szayel, strangely enough, looked haggard. Something was clearly bothering him.

Leaning back in a chair, Stark was staring at the ceiling. He seemed to expect something to happen up there. In one hand he held something reminiscent of soda, and in the other, a bag of chips. Halibel was sitting next to him, and the two were exchanging light and quiet conversation. Halibel was still in uniform, and then began to reprimand Stark for having a bathrobe draped around his shoulders. Stark ignored her.

"OHAYO!" Orihime walked straight in, smiled, and waved at everybody.

Everyone in there stopped what they were doing, and looked at her. Except for Szayel and Yami.

"Oh, hey." Grimmjow greeted with a short, flippant wave. "ANYWAY. And then, I blew up the mall, and then I woke up."

"Hi," the others greeted.

Ulquiorra stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. He wanted to turn around and run back to his room, but before he could even turn on his heel, Orihime grabbed his wrist, and with a force unlike her, jerked him into the kitchen with everyone else. He stumbled after her.

"Ulquiorra, what the hell? Why are you wearing the uniform?" Grimmjow demanded, frowning. Ulquiorra wanted to cero everyone in there to ashes, but he restrained by keeping his hands in his pocket, squeezing them to the pulse of a human heart.

"Because…we are supposed to wear the uniform." he answered coldly.

"Uniforms…please. Don't you have shorts? Well, actually, this is my underwear. But who gives a damn, right?"

Grimmjow stretched his bare legs in front of him. He smirked sardonically, shooting a glance at Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra ignored Grimmjow. His patience was being tested.

"Of course I do." Ulquiorra answered angrily. He wasn't going to add that his shorts were actually under his hakama, in the place of underwear. But then he was struck by the fact he was here only to eat, and not to endure Grimmjow's tormenting. Dismissively, Ulquiorra glided to the pantry, which he began to dissect for his breakfast.

"We're leaving." Stark and Halibel rose from the table. "See you guys around."

Stark dragged himself out of the kitchen, whereas Halibel strode out briskly out. The door closed with a light thud, and the kitchen was left in silence. The sound of turning pages floated around, coming from Noitora and Szayel. Grimmjow pulled some random catalog lying on the island from under more papers, and browsed through it. Orihime sat with Szayel, munching on something that was more repulsive than a dead rat. Just looking at it made Ulquiorra's stomach churn. Even more while he was attempting to eat toast.

"So, Szayel…what are you reading?" Orihime asked curiously, in her good nature. She peeked over his shoulder, and Szayel closed the book a little and gae her a taut smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"The theories of perpetual motion from the renaissance era." Szayel answered tersely.

"Wait, you're reading medieval crap?" Grimmjow asked, looking up from his magazine. "Wow. That explains the fucked up cover and moldy pages."

"Mm, yeah. But the mold is actually dust that has settled into the pages and every nook and cranny of it." Szayel answered, taking a sip of his coffee. "I bet dust like that has settled in your mind."

To everyone's surprise, Grimmjow laughed. Softly. And smiled, at an insult directed toward him.

"Meh, that's true there." Grimmjow quipped, turning a page in the magazine.

"And in my mind," Noitora began, wagging his pointer finger. "its nooks and crannies are full of—"

"We don't need, much less want, to know what inhabits your brain, Noitora." Grimmjow interrupted.

Noitora and Yami snickered. They exchanged the naughty glances of little boys.

"You would all crap yourselves if you knew," Noitora answered,a grin splitting his face. "Hey, Yami, wanna go look up _dirty _porn on the internet?"

"Wait, this isn't dirty porn?"

"No, this is clean, dumbass. It's playboy." Noitora replied with a whack to Yami's head. "Dirty porn is…intense, man, you gotta check it out. Let's go."

"Okay!"

Yami and Noitora snickered some more, and took off somewhere. But as soon as they were gone, they were immediately criticized.

"What whores," grimaced Grimmjow.

"Yami is going to become whore-ible if he keeps hanging with Noitora. I mean…can you imagine?" Szayel shook his head, and sighed.

"I hope you're aware of the fact Orihime is in the room." Ulquiorra stated icily. He couldn't keep a look of abhorrence out of his system.

"Yeah, totally." Grimmjow answered. "That way she'll learn to stay out of Noitora and Yami's way if she wants to keep her virginity." He looked up at Orihime and shrugged. "Right…uhh…Orihime?"

"Of course!" Orihime said brightly, clapping her hands. "I'm going to get married, and then I'll have kids, and we'll be one big happy family!"

"Mmm…I want a girlfriend. How about you, Szayel? And you, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow asked casually. He didn't look up from the magazine as he spoke, and turned the pages lazily.

Szayel made kind of hacking sound, and pulled the book over his face just so to hide a blush creeping up his cheeks. He harrumphed and coughed and choked on his coffee, but they did not get an actual reply.

Ulquiorra's toast went stale at the very question, and he had a sudden urge to just die in a little corner somewhere. He did not need Grimmjow, his worst enemy, to get any crazy ideas.

"I don't need a girlfriend." Ulquiorra replied stonily, staring at the floor blankly. He swallowed the lump of dry bread and winced as it sliced his throat up.

"I do!" Grimmjow said.

"Go for it!" cheered Orihime. She grinned at Grimmjow. "I'm sure there are girls here who would like you as their boyfriend."

Grimmjow ran a hand though his hair, and coughed.

"Um, well, all the girls here, none of them are exactly my type. Cirucci, Apacci, Sun Sun, Mira Rose, Halibel…and then there are those sluts Lolly and Menoly. And then that crazy Lilinette. I'm not really into any of them."

"Well, Mira Rose is pretty." Szayel put in. "And she's is totally your type. I think you should, like…ask her out."

"No, that's not how it works, Szayel, it's all about outward appeal. If we don't look good, then everything sucks." Grimmjow said hotly. "Plus, Mira Rose is too…"

"Hot for you." finished Szayel.

"Excuse me?"

"She's too hot for you. You think she'll reject you and take someone else instead. Same with all the others you named."

"Oh, is that what you think? You little fucker…" Grimmjow hopped off the island. "I'll show you! I'm going to ask her out right fuckin' now! Watch me get her!"

Grimmjow, with violent gestures, stormed out of the kitchen, leaving an amused Szayel, a confused Orihime, and a mildly annoyed Ulquiorra.

"Are you done, Orihime?" Ulquiorra asked.

"Um, yeah…" Orihime stood up and frowned. "But I think I've lost my hairpin." She touched her temples gingerly, feeling for her ever present hairpins. A pout knitted her eyebrows together.

In resignation, Ulquiorra jammed his hands into his pocket. But his right hand hit something.

"Orihime, it's probably in my room. Now come on." Ulquiorra motioned her over. Orihime nodded worriedly, and followed him.

The slate blue tile of Las Noches echoed with their fast footsteps. Orihime tucked her hair back behind her ear, wondering where her hairpin went. It was on her head a while ago…or was it?

Before the door of Ulquiorra's room closed, Orihime's search was stopped. Ulquiorra took her arm before she went to look. She found herself looking into Ulquiorra's eyes. And she became lost. Heat rushed up from her heart to her head, and the world seemed to slow down as her thoughts raced incoherently. Ulquiorra looked back her, indecipherably. His lips moved, but she heard a string of words, not a sentence with meaning.

"I found it. It was in my pocket." Ulquiorra said. He moved a few strands of her hair, and slipped the pin right above her ear. Orihime smiled dreamily, and touched the pin with the tips of her fingers.

"But what exactly are those for?" Ulquiorra asked, pointing at the hairpins with a scowl. Orihime found it funny to see him like that. It was…cute, and funny.

"To hold your hair back, silly!" Orihime replied, stifling giggles. She slipped them both out of her hair, and, while Ulquiorra was busy wondering what they were for, she pinned them right into his own hair. One hairpin held back a loose, flippy strand, and the other held back hair that brushed his cheek. The bright, happy green color stood out sharply in his hair. Orihime thought Ulquiorra's head looked like it was dipped in an inkwell, giving his hair a deep black color. And with the hairpins, inkwell black with a sprinkle of emeralds. His eyes, and the pinds. Ulquiorra frowned as he fingered the hairpins.

"Heehee! They match your eyes." Orihime pointed out.

Ulquiorra's scowl turned into a confused frown. He tugged at them.

"I still don't see what they're for."

"Well, it worked on you." Orihime pointed out. She ran her finger along the strands pinned back.

"They're an annoyance." he scoffed.

Orihime watched Ulquiorra wince as he pulled the hairpins out of his hair.

"Here you go." he mumbled.

Ulquiorra, instead of giving them to her, put them both in her hair. She nearly giggled when a look of immense, intent concentration molded his face into a frown. She smiled at his touch. Ulquiorra had a special touch…it was effective, yet soft and experienced. Every time he touched her, whether it was to wipe a tear away or flick dust off her, Orihime was knocked into a slight trance.

"Ulquiorra, what should we do now?" she asked, once she managed to get out her trance.

"Let's stay in here for a bit longer." He said coolly. "I'll let you use my laptop…"

"YAY!" Orihime hugged him tightly. "Can I send an e-mail?"

Ulquiorra wriggled a little, but did not pull back.

"No." Ulquiorra said sharply. "I assume you know how to use a laptop."

"Yup." Orihime said with a nod. "So can I?"

"Go ahead."

Orihime skipped to his desk, where she, for the first time in months, was able to use technology, and was thrilled. Ulquiorra, like usual, strolled to his bookshelf. It took about fifteen minutes for him to find something he wanted to read. Even so, he settled himself on the couch. And for the thousandth time today, lost himself in thought.

* * *

Hours later, Ulquiorra seemed to be thinking. He was looking out the window. Orihime turned around…and saw the very thing that would change the day for both of them. 

"Snow!" she shrieked, clasping her hands together. Orihime whirled around to see Ulquiorra, looking up from his book. He blinked a few times, and sat up. Calculating.

"Can we play in it?" she asked pleadingly. The clouds outside were dark and heavy, but a small sliver of light passed through. She rememberedI'm fr the snow days of the real world. Heartstrings throbbed. Orihime watched with curiosity as he bolted into his closet. She could hear hangers scraping the racks. Curiously and carefully, Orihime skipped inside, peered in and saw Ulquiorra holding a long, heavy, grey winter coat. Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder, and pointed to the coat. He nodded at her, and said, "You'll need this."

Orihime smiled and felt tears come to her eyes. He said yes. Unrestrained, she flung herself at him and buried her face in his chest. Ulquiorra rested his head on her shoulder, put an arm around her, and rubbed her back. He murmured something soothing, though she didn't grasp his words.

"Thanks, Ulquiorra."

* * *

Ehehe, sorry, this was a filler chapter. And all fillers lead to the best, which, in this case, is the next chapter! 

**Last paragraph is a hint.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Under the Sky's Sheet

Bleach isn't mine, but the chapter is.

* * *

Orihime almost staggered under the weight of Ulquiorra's winter coat. It was quite heavy, but very warm. And, his scent lingered on it, something she really liked. Each inhale brought a whiff of his luscious scent into her. But even under the weight of the coat, Orihime managed to speed off in a little skip jump movement, and made a beeline for the huge doors ahead... Ulquiorra was walking quickly behind her. His black coat billowed out behind him, and he looked very somber and strangely serious, pondering. But his eyes were on Orihime, in an unwavering, pensive gaze. There was a certain tense spring in his step. 

Orihime's heart started to beat faster as approached the doors. The giant, intricately designed doors of Las Noches were waiting for her to open them. She was ready to sprint out into perfect snow.

"Come on, Ulquiorra!" she called over her shoulder, as she jerked the door open.

The door flew open, and the true biting cold came from the outside. She sucked in her breath and giggled, sending a puff into the air. While Orihime stared outside, seeing more white, and remembering the time she was free, Ulquiorra caught up to her. Next to Orihime, he was taking in the bite of winter air. Ulquiorra took in breath, and exhaled, a puff swirling into the iced air, and disappearing in the snow. His eyelids drooped minimally, and his shoulders seemed to relax. Ulquiorra liked cold weather very much. Everything about it, the wind, sleet, snow, and of course the numbing temperatures. She suspected he liked the tingle of frostbite.

"Wow…" sighed Orihime. "It's beautiful…"

With a giggle, she ran outside, into the sheeted white desert. Ulquiorra followed closely behind. He watched her prance around happily, like a little child. Under his watchful eye, Orihime could do nothing more than cartwheels and run around in circles, shrieking with laughter. He was following her around, looking around and keeping his pesquisa sharp and active for any oncoming reiatsu. Ulquiorra was simply fascinated. What made her laugh? There was nothing funny going on. Not that anything was that funny to Ulquiorra, but even so, flipping around shouldn't trigger laughing. And he didn't want to consider any scientific things: hormonal changes, estrogen and stuff. Ulquiorra thought it was highly immature of her, but at the same time, he was trying to ban the word 'cute' from his mind. He frowned at the difficulty of it; just trying to look away was a real struggle. Instead he just looked at Orihime, twirling around in circles. Her hair blew smoothly in the icy breeze, and the sun illuminated it, making it just like molten lava, standing out against the white snow and the charcoal coat. He heard her laughter ringing over the ice, and Ulquiorra was sure it could melt glaciers with its warmth. Involuntarily, he placed a hand over his heart and moaned very softly. His lip curled as a small twinge of pain started there.

Even in his half entranced state, Ulquiorra took notice of something. He was slightly shocked to see that the sun had shone on water…tears…trailing down Orihime's cheeks.

But this time, he had a good idea of what was wrong. He suddenly felt guilty. Again. Ulquiorra brushed it off, and carefully made his way toward the giddy Orihime. She was too busy in her rapture to realize his sudden proximity. Orihime's laughter was carried in the breeze, and left to be buried under Hueco Mundo's dunes. Ulquiorra, with a soft sweeping movement with his arm, pulled Orihime toward him, but his movements were more forceful than he thought. She fell right into his chest. Orihime beamed through her tears, and hugged Ulquiorra, mumbling incoherently.

"Orihime, what's wrong now?" Ulquiorra couldn't keep concern out of his voice; it was, at this point, futile. The fight was coming to an end.

"Oh, Ulquiorra…nothing is wrong. The opposite, actually. Everything is just wonderful. I'm outside for the first time in months, and you know, there are so many memories." Orihime answered, emotion thickening her voice.

Ulquiorra now knew why he felt guilty. Orihime made him feel guilty. But he would not blame her, it was his fault. He sucked in his cheek discreetly.

"…of my brother, my friends—" Orihime stifled a sob. "And of course…Ichigo, and my old friends…I wonder how they're doing. And, well, you'd understand. But this is all so familiar…so many things are running through my head. Ulquiorra, thank you so much. Because if it weren't for you, I'd be dead or something. And I hate that thought."

Orihime didn't see it, but he smiled another trace of a conservative smile and laid a hand on her back.

"Orihime…"

Orihime looked up into Ulquiorra's eyes curiously. Ulquiorra then knew that he'd have to break his promise to Aizen…and even himself. The little twinge of pain in his chest flared into a resonating, empty hurt.

Orihime heard her name called. She loved it when Ulquiorra said her name. He said it in such a nice way…he pronounced every syllable so strongly, crisply. Orihime looked up.

Ulquiorra was looking down at her, but he seemed to have leaned in closer. His head was tipped slightly to one side, and he looked dreamy-- dreamy as one so perceptive and sharp can look. There was a different expression to his face, but Orihime couldn't put her finger on it. He still looked harsh and cold. But what he did next denied any of that. Ulquiorra laid a cool hand on her cheek. He brushed off her tears, flowing quickly down her face. But then it happened, and the world changed.

Ulquiorra was always graceful, but there were no words for the way he leaned down closer to Orihime, so she could feel his breath on her cheek. It all happened in slow motion for Orihime, but she never got a chance to savor it. Ulquiorra lips against her cheek were no more than a breeze in rolling hills. It brought warmth to Orihime's broken heart. Orihime didn't even notice it until he pulled away. Her eyes widened and blush came over her pale skin. Her breathing became ragged with shock.

Orihime stared at him. She brought her hands up to her heart, and suppressed everything within with great effort. But more than anything, she felt like she had just seen her life's memories, good and bad fly before her eyes. She had, and that was why a torrent of tears spilled over. And then, like a simmering pot, something was added to her boiling emotions: a pinch of nostalgia, bringing the tears to her eyes and a prick in her heart, and a cup of love. Something she had been neglected of for a long time, and she had felt it again. Not from him, but actually in her heart. Yet she couldn't believe…that it was him that had just kissed her. The stoic, cold guard had broken.

Ulquiorra turned had his back to her. Even so, Orihime could practically feel embarrassment radiating from him, and regret laced into tendrils of what she thought was real affection. But with Ulquiorra, nothing is for sure. He's too complex…but not complex enough to see that he was in love, and was not winning the battle to keep it in.

"Ulquiorra…?" Orihime tried to get a closer so she could see his face, but he looked somewhere else. Orihime gave up, but she did manage to jump up, throw her arms around him, and peck his cheek. Too bad she missed, and planted it on his lips instead. Ulquiorra seemed to be surprised; he almost recoiled but he didn't push her off. They held it for a few seconds. Ulquiorra only gently undid her arms from around neck after those short seconds. It wasn't a passionate kiss, only a soft touch of the lips. He held her hands for a brief moment longer, before he let them drop to her sides. Orihime sighed and wiped her eyes, staring at the ground.

Ulquiorra showed no emotion, but it was clear that under that stoic face, he had no idea what to say or do. He seemed to be asking himself why he had kissed her. It was him, after all, who made the first move. Orihime couldn't look into his eyes without tearing more and giggling and blushing at the same time. It had been too much for one day.

"Why did you do that?" Orihime asked in a small voice.

"I told you earlier this morning." He said cryptically, distantly. "And that was proof, Orihime."

Orihime gasped lightly. She found the answer as to why he kissed her.

_But even though you call me cold hearted…I still love you._

Ulquiorra gave Orihime a cool, calculating gaze, and Orihime replied with an entranced stare, right into those hard emerald eyes of his. She found herself able to look into them without wavering for more than ten seconds.

It felt like the sands of time stopped, the twisting became still, and the grains held their breath…but just for a moment. The moment Orihime had found as her epiphany. Orihime took her gaze down from his, and everything moved on. Ulquiorra was still looking at her, she could feel it.

She smiled, knowing that under his gaze, nothing would ever harm her. Orihime was protected, she felt alive when she felt Ulquiorra's gaze lingering on her. It made her giddy and sent her into a slight swoon.

"So…you really do love me?" Orihime asked meekly, tempted to kiss him again.

"I don't need to repeat myself," he said coolly. "But that is the only reason you got that from me."

Orihime looked up at him, shaking her head lightly.

"You're so secretive." She said playfully, nudging him.

Ulquiorra scowled lightly, he looked at her teasingly.

"You think so? And you're the opposite, Hime." He answered, in a strangely playful tone of voice.

"Oh…you called me 'Hime'! My nickname! Can I call you Ulqui-chan?" Orihime asked.

Ulquiorra looked to the side. He didn't look angry, he looked pensive.

"I don't think so." he said quickly.

"Not fair!" cried Orihime. "You can call me by a nickname, and I can't?"

"Yes." Ulquiorra replied shortly. "That's right, Hime."

Orihime pouted. She tried to see if Ulquiorra wavered under her cutest pout, but he stood still giving her a painfully indecipherable look. Orihime looked at the fresh white snowflakes laced into his black hair; they looked like stars against a night sky. She felt like picking the snow out of his hair. It was hard to restrain that urge. Her fingers, which she hid behind her back, were coiling around each other in effort to keep them still.

Ulquiorra suddenly grimaced a little.

"This coat is so ridiculously warm…" he muttered, fanning himself with a hand very lightly.

"Are you sure it's not just you? See, when people are in love…they start to get hot and sweaty…" Orihime trailed off. Her hands went up to her face to hide the blush blooming.

Ulquiorra blinked, pressed his lips tightly together and looked away. He said nothing, but chewed lightly on his lower lip.

Orihime had learned one thing about Ulquiorra—he fidgets whenever she points out his emotions.

"We should go inside." Ulquiorra said suddenly, taking Orihime's hand—not her arm, but her actual hand—and held it in a soft, light way. Orihime liked the way he held her hand, even though his hand was cold, and pulled her gently through the snow. She lightly skipped along with him, glancing at the overcast, heavy sky.

Ulquiorra held her warm hand; he found he didn't want to let go.

The two walked into Las Noches: as soon as Ulquiorra passed under the threshold, he let go of her hand, but with a somewhat apologetic look. Orihime understood, she smiled back and sped up her pace, just so she could be closer to him.

"Hey, Ulquiorra, where are we going?" Orihime asked.

"Orihime…could I ask you something?" she looked up and saw, that Ulquiorra was scowling a little.

"Well, what is it?" she asked curiously.

"Would it be too painful for you if we were to go into Szayel's lab for a moment? I needed to ask him something."

For a fleeting second, an image of a smiling Ichigo clouded Orihime's vision.

She sighed with the weight of a thick foggy night.

"I'll wait outside." She said in a small, tight voice.

Ulquiorra nodded, and she felt him take her hand and squeeze it, before letting it drop back at her side.

They stopped at the tall white doors Orihime recognized as Szayel's laboratory, and stood outside. Ulquiorra gave her a soft look, and went right in, but stopped a bit near the entrance. Orihime heard him mumble "…that's disgusting…"

Ulquiorra didn't exactly want to be in Szayel's lab at the moment. Because, with each step he too, he saw more mutilated things, and up ahead he could see blood—plenty of it, and Szayel bent over a body. A shudder threatened to thrash down his spine. He was never so squeamish, but because he knew whose body it was that was being mutilated, he suppose that explained the sudden issue in his stomach.

Ulquiorra swallowed his mild nausea.

"Szayel."

"Ulquiorra…hi. Hold on a sec, I have to rip out something here…"

Ulquiorra averted his gaze to the ice blue tile.

"Damn. Won't come out."

Szayel turned around, and smiled at Ulquiorra. The gloves he as wearing came up to his elbows, and were soaked in blood well past the wrist. His lab coat had more blood on it.

"Well, what did you need?"

Ulquiorra tried to ignore the faint feeling that was coming over him. Ulquiorra never minded blood, but he knew whose blood this was, and his mind drifted off to Orihime…he put a hand to his temple and sighed.

"When can we take the body back to the real world?" Ulquiorra asked.

Szayel waved a bloody hand.

"I'm almost done with him. It's just the liver…seems like it's rooted to his muscles and skin. But, I'll have him stitched up and clean by…tomorrow evening." Szayel replied. "How does that sound?"

"Fine." Ulquiorra replied. Since was Szayel the mortician? "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

From there, Ulquiorra made a beeline for the door. He was dying to get out of there. With each step he took, he became worse and more lightheaded.

Orihime was standing just outside the door. She was wringing her hands, looking at the floor. Orihime looked at Ulquiorra, as he came out. He leaned against the wall, his breath coming faster and heavier.

"So…what did he say?" Orihime asked, tension in her voice.

"Tomorrow evening," Ulquiorra replied shortly. "Let's return to my room—"

"Oh! Ulquiorra!" Orihime suddenly exclaimed.

Ulquiorra looked at her. Orihime gazed at him with her bright, shiny eyes, and a smile spread along her face.

"Let's get hot chocolate! It's so warm and yummy…and we can have it in your room! With lots of pillows and blankets—oh, can we?" Orihime begged. "Pretty please?"

Ulquiorra sighed, running a hand through his hair. He contemplated.

"Very well," he said firmly. "To the kitchen, then."

"Thanks!" Orihime said. She took his hand, and stood very close to him, so as they walked, their arms touched. Orihime noticed Las Noches' heating system had been turned on, leaving a pleasantly warm temperature hanging in the still air. Ulquiorra didn't seem to like it; his coat was slung over his forearm now, and every so often he'd sigh in light exasperation. Orihime found it somewhat cute, but it became funny when he started fanning himself discreetly.

"Hey, it's not that hot in here!" Orihime said playfully. "It's actually a normal temperature for once."

"No, it's not. It's too warm in here." Ulquiorra murmured. He turned a corner into a smaller corridor, where at the end the doors to the kitchen were open.

Orihime, getting excited, quickened her pace. She loved hot chocolate. It would always make her feel warm, and put her into a fuzzy, cozy state.

To Ulquiorra's relief, no one was in the kitchen. It was silent. He went to the pantry, fished out some bags of hot chocolate (which he was surprised to find in Las Noches), and got out the mugs.

"Hey, Ulquiorra, do you like chocolate?"

Ulquiorra grimaced a little, pouring water into the mugs.

"It's not my favorite thing. But I do not hate it." He answered, popping the mugs into the microwave.

"Really?" Orihime said, cocking her head. "I like it. Have you ever tried apricot jelly with hot chocolate? It's good."

She watched Ulquiorra's lip curl, amused. And disgusted.

"How can you eat that? It's revolting." He stated coldly.

"It's yummy!" Orihime was defending her strange food tastes. "Much better than toast everyday, like you have."

"I need my carbs." Ulquiorra answered shortly. "And omelettes do not go with jelly, Tabasco sauce, or duck sauce."

"They do!" contradicted Orihime. "In fact, someday, I'll let you try it."

"Unlikely." scoffed Ulquiorra.

"No, no, seriously! I will force feed you the food, then. Like you promised to do to me so many times. Revenge, sort of! Heehee!"

Ulquiorra shot her a cold glare.

"Never. I would not eat your 'food'."

"What makes you think Las Noches' food is good? The veggies lack jelly!"

"Las Noches' food is edible, Orihime." Ulquiorra quipped.

"Well…yeah, but it's poorly seasoned!" Orihime contradicted with a pout.

"If you think Las Noches' food is poorly seasoned, then taste your own food and your paradigm will change."

Orihime grinned and shook her head.

The conversation ended with the microwave's beep.

Up in Ulquiorra's room, Orihime plunked herself onto his plushy white couch, and pulled a nearby blanket over herself. She looked out the dark window. Snow fell faster and thicker than before. She never knew Hueco Mundo had seasons…she just thought it was cold all the time. Orihime took a sip of her hot chocolate, sending new warmth into her body. She sighed contentedly, bringing her legs up to her chest.

Behind her, she heard a noise, and looking over her shoulder, she saw it was just Ulquiorra, who had come out of the bathroom. He stopped, took a sip of the hot chocolate, grimaced, and scuttled back into the bathroom murmuring something along the lines of "still too sweet".

Orihime giggled to herself, assuming Ulquiorra was doing something desperate to make his drink less sweet. She wondered why anyone would want to water it down; hot chocolate was perfect the way it was. But, this was Ulquiorra…

He came to the couch, holding his mug loosely in his hand. Ulquiorra sat down rather close to Orihime, and as he settled himself in, he sighed. Orihime smiled at him.

"So, how much did you water down your drink?"

Ulquiorra glanced down at the insipid, light brown color swirling around in his mug.

"Just right." He answered. "Would like to try some?"

Orihime looked down at his milky drink. She looked up at him. He held out the drink to her, looking at her coyly.

"I guess…" Orihime murmured. She took the cup in hand, and took a small sip of a light, watery, milky liquid with barely any taste of chocolate. She had difficulty swallowing it down, and immediately handed it back to Ulquiorra. Orihime desperately chugged her chocolate to get the taste of Ulquiorra's out of her mouth. How could he drink that? It tasted so light and far too watery.

"Eww…" she moaned. "That was bad."

A smug look took over Ulquiorra's face. He said nothing, and just took a long drink out of his mug.

"Whatever." He said softly.

Orihime make a cutesy little pout, and gave Ulquiorra a soft, playful shove.

"Mine is better than yours!"

"This topic is getting tiring," he murmured.

"Okay, then…let's talk about puppies!"

"I'd rather not." Ulquiorra said quickly.

An awkward silence filled the small space between them.

"Hey, Ulquiorra…" Orihime began to massage her fingers, even holding the mug. She looked down at her lap.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember anything about your life as a human?" Orihime meekly asked, draping the blanket tighter around her.

Ulquiorra frowned deeply. The air was humid with tension and moroseness.

"Very little." He answered shortly. "I died eight hundred years ago."

"WHAT?!" Orihime almost spilled her drink over herself.

Ulquiorra nodded.

"B-but do you remember any of it?" Orihime inquired.

"I do." He answered curtly. His frown became a little tighter. "All I do remember, though, is a sea of blood. And a girl…a man telling to me to kill…" Ulquiorra brought a finger to his lip. "And the fact I died by the blade I used to kill. I killed myself."

Orihime gasped, and if it weren't for Ulquiorra's lithe reflexes, there would be hot chocolate in her lap. Ulquiorra put her mug on his coffee table, and gave Orihime a saddened, thoughtful look. Orihime stared back with her eyes wide, and a quivering lip.

"But why?" she whispered. "What brought you to that?"

"That is something I don't know." Ulquiorra answered softly. "If I remember correctly, I believe I died in early October, on a cold night. I was…sixteen years old." He said.

Orihime nodded for him to continue. She wanted to hear more. He understood, and went into all of what he remembered.

"I lived in Germany in the late thirteenth century. My mother was Spanish and my father was German, hence the name 'Schiffer'. I don't exactly remember well, but there was a sort of war…a strange war…" Ulquiorra closed his eyes briefly, with a deep frown on his face. "Oh, yes, I think it was—crusades. That's right. In that time, as I'm sure you know, women were thought to be useless creatures…I lived in a small town, and when the crusaders came and we had to fight, the women were up front…so that they would die first, leaving the men alive. I fought in the crusades at a young age. My father—I think it was him, yes—listened to this propaganda about them and put them to use; it started somewhere deep in the slums of a city nearby; I don't remember the city. He believed it, and forced me to support it along with him. I was eight years old at them time…1266. Years passed…and I was sixteen. My current age, by your human ways of measuring time. So the crusaders came one night, when I thought they were gone. My sisters were forced out there as martyrs. I watched them die, but I took my youngest sister along and hid. But then someone came along, saw her hiding with me, and killed her before my eyes." Ulquiorra trailed off, reliving the old, faint memories. "But my younger sister…she was the one I would always protect." Ulquiorra stopped, looking up at the ceiling for a brief moment. "But it was then I had nothing to live for, with her gone. I took my own life over her grave." Ulquiorra finished. He nodded. "Yes, the night of October 4, 1272."

"But…but your sister…and the war…"

"I don't remember." He said firmly, finalizing his statement with a cold stare. "I just know the girl was very much like you."

Orihime looked a bit teary. She wiped an eye.

"And that's probably the reason you have those tear marks on your cheek…" she mumbled.

"Yes." Ulquiorra said, putting a hand on her leg. "I think so too."

"That's so sad. Your own sister right in front of you eyes…such a young age…sixteen. That's how old I am." Orihime said quietly. "And the others? How did they die?"

Ulquiorra looked up at the ceiling, but then looked down at his lap.

"Szayel was a martyr, Grimmjow was killed by a gang, and Noitora, killed for being a womanizer--his tendencies still remain…Stark died in his sleep due to an illness, hence his lethargy." Ulquiorra answered. He took a long drink out of his mug. "But we prefer to avoid that topic."

Orihime blinked back tears, thinking of Ichigo.

"Ulquoirra, does it hurt to die? Do you feel any pain, any disturbance…?" Orihime questioned in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I felt a sharp pain when I stabbed myself, but then everything just went black. No pain. It was like falling asleep, but to never wake up again." Ulquiorra said. "After the initial prick of sword, there was a short burst of a burning, ripping feeling, but it lasted less than a second. Numbness overcame me, and I let go of life." He frowned suddenly. "My sister, the one whose grave I was standing on...I saw an image of her face in the final numbness." Ulquiorra inhaled sharply and folded his arms. "It was very fast."

"What hurt the most? Does your life flash before your eyes?"

"I saw everything I had lived fly past my eyes, and that was what hurt the most. Reliving the horrible things I did, and knowing I couldn't do anything." Ulquiorra replied impassively.

"Mmm…" Orihime wiped away a tear. "So…so Ichigo…did he die painlessly, Ulquiorra? Please tell me…" Orihime sobbed softly. She didn't want to ask that question, it seemed to tear her into pieces. But she had to ask.

Ulquiorra knew he'd have to face this question sooner or later.

"He did."

"How?" asked Orihime, stifling a sob.

"I won't say." Ulquiorra replied. He scooted closer to Orihime, and brought his knees under him. He turned to face her.

"Don't think about it, Orihime. It'll all seem worse if you do." He said. The back of Ulquiorra's hand ran down the length of one cheek, he flicked more tears off of her.

"It's all a bad dream…" she said, closing her eyes.

"No." Ulquiorra said with a hard tone. "You have to learn to accept it. If you don't, you'll end up like me."

That broke through to Orihime. She looked at him intensely for a few moments, and nodded, understanding. She didn't know if she'd be able to comply, but something in her made his command stick.

"Succumbing to guilt makes everything worse."

Ulquiorra leaned forward, wrapping her into a fairly tight, quick, comforting hug. He leaned back into his original position, and looked at her with stern green eyes.

Orihime stared back, her face becoming serious. She frowned, and nodded.

"I'll remember that." She said calmly.

"Very well." Ulquiorra glanced at the clock. "I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

"I need to think—"

"Think only of the good things." Ulquiorra reminded. "You can't take any more mental pressure—but I will say this: for a human, you have an outstandingly calm state of mind."

_I h__ope__ she__ keep__s__ it forever._

* * *

Oh crap I'm so SORRY for making you guys wait. Extreme writer's block there…I have to change a lot of chapters around…I'm also a bit slow due to tonsillitis and strep…it hurts… 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review.

**NOTE: That's what I think Ulqui's past is like. HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT? TOO BAD. This author does not care what you think. ;D**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Final Harmony

Bleach isn't mine.

* * *

Orihime opened her eyes to a soft light coming in from the windows. Under the blankets of Ulquiorra's bed, she was warm, but something about the shine sliding into the room made her feel even warmer. She smiled to herself, and rolled onto her other side, so she was facing Ulquiorra.

His serene face showed how deep in sleep he was, and his mouth was parted as if words were hanging off his lips, but couldn't quite fly away. Romantic, yes. She had noticed Ulquiorra slept in a strange way: he seemed to be on his stomach, with one leg stretched out to full length, while the other came up at side and his arms were around the pillow, and his head facing one side: he looked somewhat like a backwards 'K'. Orihime found it somewhat funny, the way he slept, but he looked calm and graceful, even when bent into grotesque positions. She was tempted to touch his smooth face, but instead she just watched him. He was so placid, she didn't want to wake him. Orihime wondered what he was dreaming about, if he was dreaming at all. Surely he dreamed. His mind was not full of the emptiness he himself was full of, and his mind was full as Orihime's heart. She had a visceral feeling he was dreaming, and as he slept there, she just stared, falling into her own elaborate dreams involving him.

Orihime was pulled out of her daydream by Ulquiorra's deep sigh. She watched as his calm face hardened; he frowned, and shifted a little bit. Orihime leaned closer, and she was about to give into her temptation. She reached out a single finger, and traced his jaw line. And then, his perfect green eyes opened, sending a surge of heat through Orihime's veins.

"Good morning," she whispered, smiling cordially, pulling back slowly.

Ulquiorra blinked and ran a hand through his hair.

"Good morning." He whispered back. His voice was still heavy with slumber. Ulquiorra rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned. He blinked blankly a few times and then stretched out his bent leg to its full extent.

"What would you like to do today?" Orihime asked curiously. She propped herself up on her elbows and cocked her head. Her hair slipped over her shoulder and coiled down on the pillows and sheets.

Ulquiorra's emerald eyes strayed to the bookshelf; Orihime caught notice of this and suppressed the urge to giggle, but at the same time, her heart sank. She liked Ulquiorra very much, but he was, quite frankly, addicted to reading, and Orihime wanted some real excitement. Ulquiorra scowled a little, but he looked more longing than anything else. He sighed lightly, and folded his arms behind his head.

"I'm sure you know I'd rather read than do anything else." Ulquiorra said with slight annoyance.

"Right," Orihime nodded. She held her breath. Orihime knew Ulquiorra well enough that he was about to say something else. She was surprised at this gut feeling.

"But, what do _you_ want to do today?" Ulquiorra asked tersely. He propped himself up on his elbow and gave Orihime and fixed his expectant gaze on Orihime.

Orihime put a finger to her lip. She knew that inside Las Noches, there were millions of things to do, Ulquiorra had mentioned a pool before…Orihime did like to swim, it had been a long time since she swam. She wondered what else there was to do, but nothing else ever came to mind.

"Hey, Ulquiorra, out of curiosity—do you like to swim? Or, the water at all?" Orihime asked.

Ulquiorra glanced at her.

"I don't mind it." He said shortly.

"Ah. So, um, what kind of stuff do the Espada do for fun?" Orihime questioned curiously. She stared at him shyly, and watched a strange look pass over his face.

"We normally do whatever we feel like doing. It's not a social thing, exactly…" Ulquiorra said. He suddenly frowned and sat up. "Someone's coming. It's Aizen."

"A-Aizen? What?"Orihime recoiled a little, swallowing rising fear. Ulquiorra nodded, pulled the covers over her jerkily.

"Don't move." He said in a whisper so low, Orihime could only tell what he said by reading his lips. Ulquiorra's face had taken a hard, tough look. His eyebrows were set in a tight frown, and he had his lips pressed tightly together. He slipped out of bed, leaving pillows under the sheets so Orihime could not be picked out so easily.

The knock on Ulquiorra's door reverberated off the high ceilings, and sounded through Orihime's bones. She kept down a shiver. What made Ulquiorra so tense like this…was it that he felt something—something more than Aizen—creeping closer to them?

Ulquiorra quickly opened, and let Aizen in. Footsteps echoed as Aizen sashayed into the room.

"Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra…" Aizen said in a condescending tone of voice. "I haven't talked to you in a while."

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

"I was just thinking…about Orihime and all—I don't need her anymore. I have found more power in others than she will never have. I am asking you to dispose of her promptly."

Under the sheets, Orihime's hairs stood on end, and her blood ran with the force of a storm surge. The silence that followed after Aizen's command stood still, hanging above all of them. This was deathly silence. Would Ulquiorra turn and kill her, would he stand loyal to Aizen, or would he go against everything…and choose to keep her alive? Orihime clenched her fist, and waited for Ulquiorra's reply. Her life was holding onto his answer.

"I…" Ulquiorra started. Orihime held her breath. Tears began to form in her eyes. "I refuse, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra said sternly. It took all Orihime had to keep back a gasp.

"Excuse me?" Aizen said sharply.

"I will not kill the woman." Ulquiorra said firmly. Orihime detected a quiver in his voice, but she just smiled through her tears, unable to believe what Ulquiorra had just said. If only a few weeks ago, Aizen would've decided to dispose of her, Orihime would've been killed without a second thought by Ulquiorra. But now, he was risking his life.

"I will not kill her, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra said that with such ice in his voice, Orihime felt the sharp slice of millions of knifes on her skin, she had never heard him sound so disgusted and aggressive, and even a little bit volatile. She didn't even want to know what the look on his face was like.

A silence took in the air, with a feeling like the eye of a hurricane. Something was going to strike.

The clash of metal broke the silence with such intensity, Orihime jumped.

"You're fast." Aizen said. He sounded a bit surprised.

Ulquiorra didn't reply.

Orihime was getting too curious. She made a small opening, just enough for her to see out of it. Aizen and Ulquiorra were leaning on their swords, side against side, staring at each other menacingly. They stood like granite, neither of them moved. Ulquiorra's blade slipped a little, and Aizen took that opening to slice, but Ulquiorra parried masterfully, taking a long and lithe sidestep, rounding Aizen, and slicing at a strange angle. But Ulquiorra let his guard down a little, and narrowly missed a sharp jab from Aizen's blade.

"I will have to have someone else kill her, then." Aizen said. "I am too godly to deal with such scum like her. But, first, I will have to dispose of you, the traitor, so that you can't get in anyone's way."

She heard something like a scoff came from Ulquiorra, and they were at it again. Metal clashed, blades slice through cold air, and Orihime simply could not think of what would happen next. And then, Ulquiorra let his guard down, and was pierced by the tip of Aizen's sword, straight into the far left side of abdomen. It didn't pierce through, only because Ulquiorra had managed to grab Aizen's zanpakutou with one hand, holding it back. Blood spilled on the floor. Oh, no. Ulquiorra had a nasty habit of being quite lazy and careless when it came to battles.

"No!" Orihime screamed. She threw off the covers and jumped out of the bed.

Ulquiorra took a raspy breath and groaned, as he sank down to his knees. Blood was soaking his jacket with red, and soaking the floor as well. He gave her an angry, chagrinned look.

Aizen smiled haughtily.

"Ulquiorra!" Orihime made a move to start running toward him, but she was stopped by Ulquiorra.

"Don't get near," he said quickly. Ulquiorra moaned, and leaned forward, one hand on the ground to keep himself up. "He'll get you."

"I think he'll die momentarily." Aizen said. He grinned at Orihime. "Noitora will be after you shortly."

With that, Aizen turned on his heel, and closed the door.

The air froze, and Orihime felt nothing but a still shock. She stood staring at Ulquiorra, who had eased onto the ground. Blood was staining the tiles as it spread out under him. A thought that nearly made Orihime sob came to mind: would Ulquiorra die in her place? After all he had done for her, Orihime couldn't put up with the thought. Orihime sprinted to his side.

"Ulquiorra…are you alright?" she tried to blink back tears. "Please don't die!" she cried, putting a hand on his face. "I'll heal you—"

Ulquiorra put a hand on her knee and gazed at her. He was clearly in pain, and his skin, which was normally a powdery white, was grayer. He looked sick, and very weak, but he still remained stoic.

"Don't use your energy in such futile ways…I'm not going to die. It's just a nick."

"Ulquiorra…" Orihime stifled a sob, and shook her head. "Healing you is anything but futile…please let me…"

Ulquiorra gave her an annoyed look, and was about to reply, but sighed instead.

"It's internal," he murmured. "He…got my kidney…ah…"

Orihime nodded gravely

"Soten Kisshun, I reject"

Her hairpins glinted, and two of the petals broke off, and spread a translucent, bright shield over Ulquiorra. She watched tearfully as he relaxed—his hands unclenched and he started to look a little sleepy. The little color he always had to face came back. The hole Aizen had gouged in his side filled up; the blood pouring out stopped, and what was left ran down the sides of his body.

Once Orihime saw Ulquiorra was back to himself, she pulled back her fairies, and looked down at him, tears marking her cheeks. She couldn't stand to see people in pain, physical or emotional. It just hurt her terribly; she could feel her heart cracking. Ulquiorra looked up at her blankly.

"You cry a lot." He said observantly, sitting up. Ulquiorra made a face suddenly.

"It's because I care…" whispered Orihime, who gave Ulquiorra a determined, yet soft look. Ulquiorra returned her stare with a sort of smug, condescending look.

"And if I told you that if you didn't leave now, you'd die," Ulquiorra shot her an almost evil look, "what would you do?"

"Stay here with you of course!" Orihime answered instantly.

"Hmph."

"What?"

"Nothing, if that's how you want it to be, fine."

Orihime's eyes widened, and she leaned forward. She took a deep breath. What did he mean?

"Ulquiorra…"

"Yes?"

He stood up, and looked down at her with a calculating stare.

"Do you mean…will I…die here?" she could barely get the words out of her throat. Why couldn't Ulquiorra be more direct and less cryptic? She hardly ever understood him, he was built like a puzzle that wouldn't and couldn't be solved.

"I suggest you leave now," He said coldly, offering a hand to pull her up. "I will send you to the real world, where you will be safe from danger."

Orihime took his hand, and felt herself pulled up to her feet with a soft, quick pull. She lost her balance, and leaned forward, using Ulquiorra for support. Orihime took in a deep, quavering breath, and looked into his eyes.

"What's going on here?" she demanded. "What is—"

Ulquiorra put a finger to her mouth, and glanced at the door.

"We have very little time. The other Espada will be here at any moment—"

"Please explain to me…what is going on here?" Orihime questioned.

Ulquiorra's face took on a nervous look.

"I will summarize. Aizen thinks my loyalty is faltering for him because of you…and he also says he found…"

Ulquiorra became quite angry, he frowned deeply.

"Orihime—go to the real world, please, you can't be here at this time."

"Ulquiorra, who would protect me in the real world? I won't have you! What, are you going to die today? Is it a condemnation to you?"

Ulquiorra's severe gaze froze Orihime's stare.

"If I told you it was I who destroyed the Hougyoku—what would you say?" Ulquiorra tipped his head downward just so—the light illuminated one side of his face, and left the other side hidden by his hair and shadows. He truly looked possessed. Was this a side Orihime had 

never seen of him before? Ulquiorra was still calm, but he appeared to have taken on a snappier, even more cryptic manner.

"Uh—what?"

"Do you remember that day I went to the laboratory, and you followed me in?"

Orihime racked her memory, picking out that time. She suddenly thought she remembered Ulquiorra mentioning 'smashing' something, and he put a shiny, small object in his pocket shortly after…could that have been the Hougyoku? It must've been…

"When you walked in, I was the one that shattered it—I had stolen it from Aizen the night before."

The high cracking noise echoed in Orihime's mind. She remembered, but her mind clearly didn't click at the time.

And it all made sense, but she really did wonder—why did he do it? Ulquiorra was painfully loyal to Aizen, and what he said, went without question. And here he was, breaking Aizen's source of power right under his nose.

It was…loyal to his beliefs, but incredibly dangerous. His life was on the brink of extinguishment.

Ulquiorra was Aizen's favorite, and did what Aizen told him to do without a second thought or bat of an eye, not matter how outrageous. And now he was here, holding the remains of the Hougyoku in his hand. Orihime was so confused—she couldn't understand. Though she was well aware of the fact that Ulquiorra—being a vasto lorde and all—was extremely intelligent, she knew from here that along with that intelligence, she would never really 

comprehend with his reasons for going against Aizen. Isn't Aizen supposed to be God or something…?

"—and that's why Aizen wants to get rid of you." Ulquiorra finished quickly. Orihime suddenly realized she hadn't grasped anything he had said, lost in her own romantic thoughts, and she knew that asking him would make him impatient and mad, no doubt. So she kept quiet, the question hanging in the air…

"Oh." Orihime swallowed, tucking hair behind her ears. "Okay then." She said shortly, nervously. She tired to keep back a sheepish smile and avoided Ulquiorra's glare, which was quickly becoming angrier by the passing second.

"Right, so, now what?" she asked, curiously.

"We cut your hair."

"Umm…what?" Orihime faltered, frowning.

"We cut your hair." Ulquiorra repeated with no emotion.

"What? But why?"

"It's too long. And it'll get in the way. Anyone can grab you." Ulquiorra murmured, drawing his zanpakutou carefully.

"No, it won't! It's pretty and should never be cut!" Orihime contradicted with vicious vehemence unlike her. She took her long, shiny hair that cascaded past her hips into her hands, and stepped away from Ulquiorra.

He took a step closer to her, holding his zanpakutou in the air—he appeared to be waiting, his eyes never left Orihime's.

Orihime's gaze fell, and she turned to get away—but it all happened so fast.

Ulquiorra jumped behind her, wrenched her hair out of her hands, and sliced it all away, leaving her with deep orange cascade that barely fell past her shoulders. On the floor, her old hair was fallen into a mess of color and old memories. Orihime stared blankly.

"Let go of the memories, because your life will undergo serious changes in a matter of seconds," Ulquiorra said, slipping his arms around her trembling body, and whispering reassurances in his ear calmly. "There will be no time to remember…reminisce when you are dead, Orihime." Sensing a mistake in his wording, Ulquiorra quickly rephrased that last sentence. "When you die, that is. I won't let you go now…"

Orihime stared at the floor, and put her hands over her face. She held her breath, holding back sobs.

"I'm sorry, Orihime," Ulquiorra said, giving her a quick squeeze.

"I…what will you do to me? My reiatsu is strong, and I am not strong enough to conceal it myself. Aizen will have my head! Are all the other Espada—"

Ulquiorra put a finger to her mouth, and whispered "Shh. I know what to do."

Orihime nodded tearfully, and agreed to listen. Ulquiorra would save her; she trusted him more than anyone else right now. At the moment, she felt very close to him. Orihime nestled herself in his chest.

"I can do something to you, Miss Hime…," Ulquiorra purred, caressing her arm with his thumb. "I can protect you from any pesquisa with little pain and a slight trance…you will feel lightheaded and weak for a short time…but I will keep you safe. All you have to do is keep quiet."

"Yes…" Orihime muttered her eyes opened and were glazed over.

"I can keep your reiatsu, all of it in me…like a Gonzui, but keeping it inside me…" He said, turning her around to face him. Ulquiorra's dreamy eyes suddenly became sharp. "Make your decision; Noitora's on his way."

"Do it. I want to be with you."

"Very well then." Ulquiorra said calmly. He looked a bit pleased as he took Orihime's limp hands in his. His mouth was parted, and those gorgeous green eyes stunned Orihime, sending her into a stupor. She swayed on the spot, leaning into Ulquiorra's chest. Lightly, he tipped her chin up with his index finger.

"This won't hurt a bit."

Ulquiorra tipped his head close to her lips, as if he was going to kiss her. His lips were suspended a centimeter away from Orihime's. Prepared for rapture, coming her way at the speed of light, Orihime closed her eyes. And rapture came. In a different way.

Ulquiorra was taking deep inhales…losing his self control, he wrapped his arms around Orihime. She did not mind. Lightheaded and swooning, she did not realize her soul was being taken in by Ulquiorra's breaths. A sort of warm and swishy air was around her. His breaths came slowly and deliberately, planned so carefully to keep Orihime pain free…she would never feel pain, because what happened next, Ulquiorra nor Orihime could not explain. Orihime suddenly collapsed, fully conscious, into Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra exhaled pleasantly, feeling Orihime's soul inside. He closed his eyes and looked down. He felt tension leave his body, and pleasure replaced the blood in his veins with torrid ardor for the woman in his arms.

She was his, and he was hers. It was simple, reciprocated love that grew and pulsated ardently in both of them.

Ulquiorra was jolted awake by Noitora's reiatsu, closing in. He acted quickly, sweeping Orihime into his arms and slipping her behind his bed, out of Noitora's eyeshot. When Noitora came in, Ulquiorra assured him Orihime was not there. He lied, saying he had killed her and that Szayel had taken her body. Another lie…Orihime was very much inside Ulquiorra. She had slid under his skin once and for all.

Noitora, not sensing Orihime's reiatsu, shrugged and left.

Ulquiorra, free once and for all, returned to Orihime's side. He touched her cheek lightly, and spoke her name softly. No louder than a whisper. She replied with a soft moan, a happy moan.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes…" she replied, wincing. "I will be." Orihime placed a hand over her heart and took shivering, heavy breaths. Ulquiorra rubbed her arm affectionately, and nodded.

"Do you need to rest?"

Orihime finally opened her eyes, blearily. She looked straight at Ulquiorra, and shook her head, sitting up. Ulquiorra placed a firm hand on her back, as a gesture of worry and protection.

They were kneeling next to each other behind Ulquiorra's bed. They didn't need to speak to express emotion at this point.

"So…" Orihime began. "It's still morning…"

"Noon," Ulquiorra corrected. "Are you hungry?"

"Somewhat!" Orihime winced, placing a hand over her stomach. She giggled. "I don't suppose you have anything edible in your room?"

"No, not really. But I can't take you to the kitchen…," Ulquiorra muttered thoughtfully, hoisting Orihime off the floor. He brushed some imaginary dust off her shoulder.

"Yeah…" agreed Orihime, with a slight scowl. "So…now what?"

"We hide you. So no one can see you. So you won't die." He replied, twirling a strand of his own hair around his finger.

Orihime smiled sadly, and sighed. She suddenly felt tired and weak again; she leaned into Ulquiorra affectionately. Orihime clung to his strong, resistant body. It was a few seconds later she felt a hand massage her back and a soft "Mm" come from Ulquiorra.

She became very sleepy suddenly. Her consciousness faltered; her mixed feelings all succumbed to contentedness. Quickly and gracefully, she slid into a sweet slumber.

* * *

Okay! VOCAB TIMEZ!

Pesquisa: Arrancar's soul sensing radar type thing



Gonzui: soul suck. What Yami did in that park.

Craaaaaaaaaap. I have to hurry up and write the 14th chapter. I am suffering fromm severed writer's block.

Please, please review…at least to ease my tonsillitis pain.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Hiding Under the Mist,

Not mine

* * *

The days were passing by Orihime and Ulquiorra. Orihime had watched the clock in weary times, and she saw the days become nights. Ever changing time had kept her safe under Ulquiorra's wing, which was beginning to falter. She watched, helplessly, as Ulquiorra spent sleepless nights tossing and turning. His large and vibrant eyes were beginning to lose the little life they had. He stared straight ahead, lost in a mass of worries, thoughts, and nightmares he was living.

And she was worried about him. Ulquiorra was on the bed next to her, awake. She could hear his breathing, and he shifted every so often. A leg crossed another, his hands and arms switched places. She had heard him sigh multiple times.

"Ulquiorra, you should sleep." Orihime said delicately, turning to him. She carefully came closer to him. Ulquiorra did not even glance at her.

"I can't." he said shortly. "I want to, but I can't."

"Oh…" her eyes softened. "Maybe you need a sleeping pill?"

"No…" he said, closing his eyes, grimacing. "I don't want to force it. I can't handle it."

"Really…?" Orihime mused, leaning closer to him. She laid her head on his shoulder, and Ulquiorra absentmindedly stroked her arm. He was hardly there. His eyes closed again, and he sighed heavily, harshly. He laid a hand over his nonexistent heart, and waited for sleep to come. It never came, and it was Orihime who pulled him out of his world of worries the next morning.

"Wake up, sleepyhead." Orihime said in a tantalizing, sweet way. She tickled Ulquiorra's cheek with the tip of her forefinger and ran it down his neck all the way down to his Hollow Hole, which she traced continuously. Ulquiorra's lips were pursed in an effort to keep his level head. He grunted noncommittally and threw an arm over his eyes.

"Just a minute." He said in a voice barely above a whisper. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Orihime said kindly, scooting closer to Ulquiorra, who was beginning to kick the sheets off of himself. He rested his arm over his stomach now, revealing tired, distracted eyes. He looked sick. Ulquiorra glanced at the clock, reading ten thirty in the morning. He could tell that was the time…past the curtains, sun was flowing in tiny slivers into the room. It was very quiet.

"I kind of need to shower..." Orihime murmured, grinning. "But I'm alright."

Ulquiorra shifted his glance to Orihime. He seemed to relax, and he sat up.

Ulquiorra nodded.

"Very well, then. I will take you. Stay close."

Orihime strode into the Espada's bathrooms. It had been a while since she came here, and she was pleased to see that the rows of sinks were rather cluttered. She passed by a sink that must've been Halibel's; it had pictures of Stark nearby. And Noitora's had stacks of magazines and empty soda cans next to its faucets. Orihime proceeded past the sinks, turning to look back at Ulquiorra, who was following her with his hands in his pockets, completely resigned.

She disappeared down the corridor on the left, and stepped carefully on the wet tile into the Espada's showers, that is, Espada numbered one to five.

"That one," Ulquiorra jerked his head to the shower in the corner, the one that was his. "I'll stand guard."

Ulquiorra dodged grimly as he narrowly missed Orihime's pink spotted bra as it flew over the shower's door. He tried to get his eyes off of it, but found it extremely difficult. He leaned against the shower stall and stared blankly at the ceiling. The shower was running now…mist was floating out of the shower. Images of Orihime, wet and romantic came into his mind…he scolded himself.

But then he heard voices. Raucous laughter, sniggers and even a good hearty laugh.

For a moment, he froze, mind reeling. His eyes widened a little bit at the realization that they'd find out Orihime was there. They'd tell Aizen immediately, and Ulquiorra's nerves tingled at the thought of Orihime's death.

Grabbing hold of the shower door and praying quickly in mind, he jumped right into the shower with Orihime and hastily pressed a hand over her mouth. Orihime's eyes became large as Ritz™ crackers and she struggled against him, reaching for her shirt. Ulquiorra put a finger to his lips and slipped off his jacket, which he draped over Orihime with shaking hands, so unlike him. Ulquiorra stared at his trembling hands as he handed Orihime her pants. A sick feeling washed over him. The water was too hot, people were too close, and he was in a shower stall with his prisoner. Dumbstruck and numb, he wished he had noticed how much trouble falling for Orihime caused. But he did not regret anything.

"Ooooh, yeah!" Noitora jeered. "Stark, you have her wrapped around your finger. Gonna do it soon?"

"She's just my girlfriend, you fag." Stark replied tiredly. Apparently, he had been asked the same question several times. "I wouldn't do that to her."

"Sooo? Are you going to ask Aizen if you two can like, hitch?"

"I…I don't know…I plan to, eventually. But I'm a bit afraid of Aizen's reaction."

Grimmjow snorted suddenly. He added, "If Aizen thinks Arrancar can't reproduce, he's wrong. Arrancar can _hella _reproduce like fucking rabbits."

At this point, Ulquiorra's head was spinning. He couldn't hide his total and complete mortification. He and Orihime exchanged timid glances before tuning back into the conversation. It made him love her even more.

"Dude. Remember that slut? She slept with like half of the Numeros in one week, and then BAM she's pregnant and Aizen never found out? But then she died, right?" Noitora said.

"Uh-huh. He kid ate her; it was a Gillian." Grimmjow answered.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaa. Ah, damn it. Thank God Aizen left for the United fucking States this morning. When's he bringing his ass back?"

"Who gives a shit?" Grimmjow scoffed. "The point is, we can trash the place and blame it on Tesla, right?"

"Tesla is such a noob. That guy doesn't have the balls to talk to freaking Apache."

"Oh, my…not this again." Stark groaned.

"Apache is practically a man." Noitora said with dissent. "She's less feminine than Luppi, and Luppi was supposed to be a guy."

"You guys, don't be fags." Grimmjow said sharply. "Apache's a female. She has boobs, duh."

"Oh, my, my!" Noitora cooed. "Grimmjow has a little crush!"

"Take this and put it up your small ass…"

"FINE! I'm going to shower, then! Everyone likes a sexy Noit fresh from the showers."

"Hey, wait, isn't tomorrow Ulquiorra's birthday?" Stark questioned suddenly.

"Damn, the sixteenth already? Christmas was almost a month ago?"

"Yeah, it is. I suggest with surprise him with a Barbie doll that looks like that lady. The redhead." Grimmjow said. "Heheh. He'd like it."

Stark and Noitora laughed, and that finished the conversation. Ulquiorra had never felt so thankful, but he made sure to keep a serious, annoyed look on his face. He nodded a little bit at Orihime who was staring at him, making the connection. She then smiled and crept closer to him. Orihime placed a hand on his left shoulder; as she did this Ulquiorra felt a pleasant prickle there and heat in his chest. Expecting nothing, Ulquiorra stood there, bemused. Until Orihime raised herself on tiptoe and quickly gave Ulquiorra a peck on the cheek.

His knees buckled and his blood dilated his veins; blood pressure flew up and genuine satisfaction reverberated from the nerves all over his body. It was perfect, the hot water heated his boiling blood and absentmindedly, he pulled her close to him and squeezed her briefly. He gave her a grateful, blissful look and she beamed back at him, blushing all shades of pink from rose to fuchsia. Wow, that girl could blush.

"Hey, Noitora!" Grimmjow said over the roar of the showers. "Don't you wonder who's in Ulquiorra's shower? He never uses it, plus he would've said something by now."

Ulquiorra's pleasure evaporated, and he suddenly felt cold and clammy.

"Yeah, you're right Grimmjow."

Two showers stopped running. They screeched as they opened, and the heavy rustle of towels came from somewhere. Sloshing footsteps approached the shower. Noitora and Grimmjow were right there, just in front of the door.

"Do you really…are you really going to do this?" Grimmjow asked uncertainly.

"Yeah." Noitora said bluntly. "Open it, Grimmjow."

Ulquiorra looked around frantically. There was nothing he could do. Orihime hid behind him and shut her eyes tight. He braced himself for the worst; Noitora would rat him out.

Light spilled into the tiny shower, and in the next second, there was chaos.

Grimmjow let out a hair-raising scream and jumped back with terror, and Noitora choked on his spit and started spluttering and pounding his bony chest. He staggered back and nearly fell over Grimmjow. Stark jumped out of his shower, draped a towel around his waist, and took one look into Ulquiorra's shower. His sage green eyes widened to their limit and he stood there, gaping. Stark brushed curly dark hair out of his face and stared.

"W-What the fuck…" Grimmjow said hoarsely. He stared at them with pure shock and disbelief. He too, had his eyes wide open. Grimmjow slowly stood up, ran out of the showers, and returned with three bathrobes. Grimmjow threw one onto Noitora, who was still sitting on the floor gaping at Ulquiorra and Orihime. Grimmjow pulled his robe on and threw the other one to Stark.

"She's supposed to be dead!" shrieked Noitora pointing vaguely at Orihime. "Ulquiorra…he was supposed to kill her!"

"Ulquiorra…!" Stark said, blinking rapidly. "Do you have an explanation?"

"Tell it to Aizen!" Noitora hopped up off the ground. He a made a beeline for the door. "I'm going to tell him right now—"

But Stark stood in his way, blocking the exit. He looked up at Noitora with a very cool and hostile look that was very unlike him. Stark was never so callous.

"Noitora," he said smoothly, "You are not going anywhere, nor are you telling anyone what has happened here. And I, as your superior, command you to stay here, or I will personally kill you."

"Finally!" Grimmjow said dramatically. "Finally, he uses his superiority!"

Noitora stared at Stark blankly. He swallowed, and stepped back. He then dragged his feet to Grimmjow's side, and assumed a morose expression.

"Explain," Grimmjow said coolly, shifting his weight to his right leg.

Orihime clung to Ulquiorra.

"I didn't kill her. I didn't want to kill her, and she had the right to live." Ulquiorra said quietly. He gave a small nod. He conveniently decided to leave the part about her reiatsu. "So, I kept her with me…and…and she needed to shower…so I brought her here."

Grimmjow, Noitora, and Stark each had different reactions. Noitora looked suicidal, Grimmjow looked unimpressed and bored, and Stark, well, he just frowned a little bit.

"I see…"

"Wait, wait, wait…" muttered Grimmjow, massaging his temples. "Explain this, you fag: how come our pesquisa hadn't registered her reiatsu?"

"Idiot," Stark murmured. "It's a technique similar to gonzui."

"And, uh, could you explain why you were in the shower _with_ _her_?" Grimmjow asked. He narrowed his eyes and pointed at Orihime with a long index finger.

"Well," Orihime began sheepishly, peering around Ulquiorra's arm. "He heard you coming, so he jumped in with me so that you wouldn't see him…" she smiled, but it looked more like she was baring her teeth. To brighten the atmosphere, she waved a little bit. It failed.

"Uh. Wow."Grimmjow said shortly. "That's pretty…ambiguous."

"Indeed." Stark agreed. He then shrugged. "Well, Ulquiorra, I'm pretty surprised. Is this your first time disobeying Lord Aizen?" An amused smile came over Stark's lips.

Ulquiorra gave him a very cold and calculating glare. Ulquiorra was truly gifted in giving people menacing, ominous lowers. Stark backed down a little bit.

"Well, anyway. I won't tell, because I…" Stark bit his lip and looked at the ground. He swallowed nervously.

"Continue!" Grimmjow said eagerly.

"I am actually…with Halibel. And I know that if Aizen found out, he'd have my head."

"Well, shit!" Noitora said suddenly. "That's why she rejects me every single time I ask her out!"

"Don't tell, idiot!" Stark said sharply. He looked from Grimmjow's highly amused look to Noitora's jealous glower, and to a blank stare from Ulquiorra and mushy gaze from Orihime. He sighed.

"Yes, well, I'm done here. So I'm going back to shower. And, Noitora?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell anyone about this…"

"Right. I die."

"And we castrate you!" Grimmjow said brightly, sniggering.

"Exactly!" Stark said giving them both the thumbs up. He retreated to his shower, leaving Grimmjow and Noitora standing there. And of course, Orihime, who was drying her hair with a towel. Ulquiorra stood there numbly.

"Oh, hey. Ulquiorra. I'll keep your dirty little secret a dirty little secret instead of a dirty huge announcement." Grimmjow said solemnly. He gazed at Ulquiorra with serious blue eyes. Unlike him, as he was quite rude and condescending. "I'll keep Noitora in check too."

Noitora snorted loudly and said, "Says who? You're my bitch! I'm your superior, dammit!"

"Who fuckin' cares?" Grimmjow said emphatically. "Ranks don't matter. 'Kay, well, I actually lost the need to shower…so bye." Grimmjow waved brusquely and stalked off, right out of the bathroom.

Noitora looked like he swallowed sour milk.

"And I'm going to drown myself…" Noitora muttered. "Ulquiorra, that bastard…with a girlfriend." And he proceeded to 'drown himself' in the shower.

Ulquiorra took Orihime's arm, handed her his bathrobe, and led her back up to the room, where they could speak in private. Not that they needed too, as they were both extremely relieved—but surprised—that those three who witnessed them together were so nice as to not tell. It was so strange, though. He was a bit numb, after all that had happened. But Orihime was blissful. She skipped all way to his room.

"That was close!" Orihime said.

"Very," Ulquiorra agreed.

They were both lounging around on the loveseats Ulquiorra had in his room. While he read an old tome of a book, Orihime groomed herself. It was a fine arrangement. They could both relax without a problem. Simple and sweet.

Orihime kept her eyes on Ulquiorra's face. She watched his eyes move side to side quickly as he took in massive amounts of information. Occasionally, he'd frown, mouth something, or nod. It was very interesting to watch. He was completely immersed. Orihime was immersed in watching him.

He tipped his head to the side a little, turned the page, and then left the book pages down on his couch. He turned his gaze to Orihime, who quickly looked away, giggling.

Ulquiorra didn't seem to notice.

"So, Orihime," he began genially. "are you alright?"

"Oh." Orihime blinked. "Yes, of course! Why do you ask?"

"I was just making sure." Ulquiorra answered defensively. He gave her a pleased, yet curious look. Ulquiorra absentmindedly put a finger to his mouth and glanced around the room.

There was a sort of peace that had come over them. Ulquiorra seemed to be even a bit lighthearted, and Orihime was cheerful. Even she was surprised at this sort of feeling—it had come so quickly. She didn't want to let it go.

Orihime rose from her couch, and plunked herself next to Ulquiorra, waiting for some sort of affection from him. She nudged a little bit.

It was then Ulquiorra understood, and he put an arm around her. She was here with him.

Reminiscing through the past, he came to the memories of the early times they shared. Orihime's fear, her palpable anxiety and constant worry for her friends and future. The way she couldn't even bear to look at him; she tried to keep away from him as much as possible, as if he were poison ivy. And of course, that slap. It hurt. Thinking of it made Ulquiorra's cheeks tingle as his nerves surged with the memory of infliction by the hand of a princess. He remembered 

the first looks she could bear giving him, always tearful and terrified. Deprived of so much. Orihime's unnaturally weak emotions, broken by the slightest thing Ulquiorra did or said. She would run away. But now, arm in arm, Ulquiorra realized he had done to her as she had done to him. He felt stronger, as did she. Bound by invisible strings of affection, the two planned to never part.

Ulquiorra had suddenly realized what he was doing. Returning to reality, he had not noticed that he was lip locked with Orihime, arms around her neck but everywhere at once. And Orihime was returning the kiss with passion. Her hands were around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Desperate for a taste of true love, Ulquiorra leaned back, enjoying the cling of Orihime, following his lean. Pressure was flooding through his body; each little nerve was surging with a somnambulant passion that was becoming fully active after sleeping for so long. Heat, fiery and fluid like warm water, was radiating off his skin. Boiling blood fueled him.

Orihime suddenly broke the kiss to gasp a few breaths. She swallowed looked at him straight in the eye, and said, almost tearfully, "I love you so much."

"I love you more." Ulquiorra said. It was a challenge.

"Prove it." Orihime said. A smile played on her little, pink lips.

"I love you so much I would never be the person to take away your virginity." Ulquiorra whispered alluringly. It was true. He couldn't, wouldn't, ever force her into handing over her virginity to him. She was only sixteen, as was he.

"Ohh, wow." Orihime said teasingly. "Always the considerate one. I like that."

"I feel dirty for just having my arms around your body." Ulquiorra admitted. "And you, Orihime, aren't you too young for love?"

"You're the same age as me."

Ulquiorra opened his mouth to contradict; he nearly launched himself into a lecture, but Orihime cut his off by pressing her lips to his sharply. And he did not object.

Hey guys, bad news...**this story is near its demise!** I've done what I needed to do, and I already have the end in mind.

Buuuuuuut. Do you guys want a sequel?

_As always, review._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Epiphany in the Throne Room

YES, I know, I haven't updated in a good WHILE.

Sorry, writer's block like, Michael Jackson'd me.

Anyway. Enjoy the penultimate chapter of _A Broken Silence_.

**...The chapter gets better as it goes on. Lots of talking -- lots of emotion. That's how it works.**

* * *

Ulquiorra awoke to an unnatural disturbance somewhere near two in the morning. Though his consciousness was not together, he could feel cold hands that trembled as they tried to shake him awake. Frantic footsteps were nearby, rounding the bed. Something was wrong, and just as he thought that, a strangely cold feeling setting in his gut. At once, his eyes flew open and he looked around in the dim light. He could barely make out Stark, but he only saw a pale, concerned face looking over him. Stark, for once, was showing some emotion.

"…wake up…there's a big issue…" Stark murmured. He was bent over Ulquiorra, studying him, and a deep look of concentration was coming over him. "Halibel, wake Orihime. Aizen's coming down in minutes."

"What's happening?" Orihime asked, slinking out of bed. She draped the covers around herself and pushed stray hair behind her ears. She gave them all a bleary, befuddled look, but then a look of utter fear came over. "My hairpins! Where'd they go?" Orihime had lost her only means of protection. Whatever happened would be up to the others.

"It's Aizen. He took them-- the hairpins, I mean. Noitora must have told him about the shower incident." Halibel said quickly, tightening a robe around herself. "We are to report to Szayel's lab for briefing and battle plans."

"Oh my—but, Aizen took my hairpins!" Orihime repeated. She let herself be dragged out of the room by Halibel. The hallways were very dark, only some sparse, weak torches lit up the hallway with ominous orange light. Stark and Ulquiorra were leading the way, Ulquiorra albeit sluggishly, as he was quickly dressing himself. Stark had much more energy than usual. He turned into a stairwell, skipping steps as he descended.

"Yes, we know." Halibel said testily. "He has them; therefore, we're kind of screwed." Halibel gave a hysterical little laugh. "There's nothing we can do."

"Ow, damn!" someone hissed from the bottom. "Shit, Ulquiorra, watch where you're going!"

"Not my fault, I slipped…"

"On…_blood_?"

Halibel and Orihime gasped at they caught up to them at the bottom of the stairs. Ulquiorra was stepping in a puddle of blood. He frowned, confused, and stared down at his hakama, trimmed with blood. He made a face. It was slightly angry, with a touch of worry.

"It's still warm. Someone was mauled here not too long ago." Ulquiorra observed, a hint of sadism in his voice.

Orihime looked around, trying her hardest to see past the thickening darkness. Just ahead, there was a dark shape on the floor, sprawled out. Halibel was looking at the shape as well.

"Halibel—" Orihime began.

"No time; let's go."

When they reached the doors of Szayel's laboratory, the saw Grimmjow standing in front. He looked a bit tense and looked reminiscent of a ghost scared of itself. His self-confidence seemed to have withered.

"Go in. Szayel's got the plans. Have we got everyone?" Grimmjow asked, looking around. He exhaled nervously.

"Yes." Stark replied. "How are things inside?"

Grimmjow attempted to smile.

"Just go in."

Once over the threshold, Orihime was surprised to see others in the room. Arrancar were everywhere in the lab, or, the foyer, as she noticed Szayel had closed everything off. About twenty other Arrancar were milling around the foyer aimlessly. Orihime stood closer to Ulquiorra, who raised himself on tiptoe to search for Szayel.

"Ulquiorra, what do you think is going to happen?" Orihime asked. She took hold of his hand to reassure her.

"I can't say for sure. I presume Szayel will separate us into companies and then try to take down Aizen and all who are on his side." Ulquiorra replied. Catching sight of Szayel, he took Orihime along with him as he wove through the tiny crowd quickly gracefully.

"And what was up with Grimmjow?" Orihime questioned. Grimmjow was audacious and loud, but the circumstances seemed to have locked up his bravery.

"Grimmjow…" Ulquiorra scowled and sighed. "I don't think he likes the idea of being out there alone."

"Oh. Well, then." Orihime muttered.

Up ahead, Szayel was standing there in a comatose manner. He was distracted or daydreaming, and upon coming closer, it was evident that Szayel was near a breaking point in tension.

"Szayel, what are the plans?" Ulquiorra asked breathlessly. He tossed his head, and Orihime saw a strand of black hair brush the tip of his nose and settle into place.

"Uhh. Separation of people into companies…" he gestured vaguely to the hordes of Arrancar around the room. "And…well…don't die." Szayel smiled a little. "But of course, I've changed the air pressure to negative air pressure, so the air from outside comes in. It'll draw more spirit particles in here to the best of our ability." Szayel's smile widened. "I can tell you're enjoying it, Ulquiorra."

Ulquiorra made a pleasant face and tipped his head to the side.

"Well, anyway." Szayel continued. "I've got the corridors sealed off from the lab's hallway, and there's molecular pressure on the walls to keep them sturdier in the case of emergency." Szayel nodded and put a finger to his chin. "But other than that…just fight to kill Aizen."

"That's a little primitive, coming from you." Ulquiorra said stiffly.

"Yes, well, there's not much I can do when all these lesser people joined…"

"And how exactly did all these people…?" Ulquiorra asked. He folded his arms and looked at Szayel with a hard gaze.

"Oh, about that. Well, they kind of…found out. Accidentally. But see, they hate Aizen as well, so it all works. We're all going to have to fight. In fact—"

But Szayel was cut off as a rumbling that shook the floor violently, threw them around and knocked others off balance. Orihime screamed and gripped Ulquiorra's arm tightly. Ulquiorra turned around to watch the door.

"Go! Get going! First squadron, go take anyone you see out there down! Espada, stay!" Szayel screamed above the clamor. "The corridor has been opened! Get going!"

At once, all the Arrancar in the room charged out of the room, swords out, and they left the foyer in silence. The ones that were left were completely shocked, just standing there.

Stark and Halibel joined Ulquiorra, Szayel and Orihime, all of which looked extremely confused. Szayel stood there, looking around the lab, slightly paranoid. He had his knuckles to mouth, and he chewed on his lip lightly. Tension was taking over...he looked around.

"Anesthesia." He said suddenly. "I'll need it for today."

"Hm?" Stark cocked his head. "What about it?"

"Injuries…" Szayel said distantly, assuming in strange stupor. He stared into the distance for a while longer. "Oh, right, where was I…I'll send all of you off when some of the others return. I've cut off all communications…from this room…"

"Your point?" Stark said, folding his arms.

Szayel shook his head.

"Anyway. Any questions?"

The group shook their heads solemnly.

Hours passed. By this point, Szayel was completely distracted by something. He kept murmuring reminders under his breath, like a student about to take a test. But it seemed to not be working. Then, the door to the lab opened, and in came two battle scarred Arrancar. Szayel studied them with a quick looked, and jerked his head to the hallway on his left.

"To the right." Szayel said tersely, angrily.

"He's got Gin and Tousen with him. It's pointless to have us take him on." One of them said.

"Very well then." Szayel nodded. "Stark and Halibel, you two take on Gin and Tousen. Get rid of Gin first if you can. Grimmjow, take out Tousen quickly. Stab him, cut him, whatever. Ulquiorra…you deal with Aizen."

"No!" Orihime cried suddenly. She stepped up to Szayel defiantly and stared up at him angrily. Szayel looked bemused. "He'll be killed."

"Ulquiorra is no pushover. You haven't seen him in battle, have you?" Stark asked shrewdly. A small smirk was dangling on his lips. Orihime was a bit unnerved by this. Szayel was cunning, she knew, but there was something distrustful in his eyes.

"Err…yes! I saw him fight Aizen a while ago!" Orihime said firmly. She tossed her head and sniffed loudly. Orihime folded her arms and looked at the whole group.

Szayel just sat there, eyebrows raised.

Stark scoffed and brushed curls out of his face.

"Ulquiorra is a lazy bastard, let's face it. He doesn't try—not that he needs to—"

"Don't you dare call him that!" Orihime hissed, giving Stark a smoldering glare.

"That's how it is." Ulquiorra said, pursing his lips a bit.

"—and yet he still wins. But when he tries…listen, Ulquiorra, you better try…but when he tries, that's different. Like dancing with death, if you want it poetically."

Szayel and Halibel agreed with nods of assent.

"He's the most capable one here, actually." Halibel said. Stark and I may be a higher rank than him, but…when Ulquiorra wants to, he will kill."

Orihime looked at them, convinced they were drugged with something, and then at the majestic Ulquiorra. It was hard to believe that he, relaxed and unworried, would be able to turn into a monster at such a speed. Now looking at him, Orihime suddenly felt a change. She hadn't noticed it before, but he did look extremely cruel at the moment. And bloodthirsty, with a small hint of contempt. Whether she was seeing things or not, she did not know, but Orihime could've sworn his pupils were slightly more slit-like that usual. Her eyes traveled down his arm and she saw his long fingers caressing the hilt of his zanpakutou. Those fingers had caressed Orihime in her times of need before, and now they stroked what would easily finish anyone who stood in his way.

"Don't worry, Orihime." Ulquiorra said coolly.

"But this is Aizen…" Orihime pointed out.

"That doesn't matter." Ulquiorra said with a shake of his head. "I'm going. Stark and Halibel, take Gin from behind. Grimmjow…deal with Tousen. I assume they're together, in the same room, therefore, we can all go. I'll lead."

He turned on his heel, and at last drew his zanpakutou. He held out in front of him, silver blade glistening; it would lead his way. The resistance would begin.

At once he began a fluid promenade to the lab's door, with the other Espada following him. He eased the door open and left just after a brief look over his shoulder at Orihime.

Orihime unconsciously made a move to go, but a heavy hand that belonged to Szayel held her back. She watched as the tip of Ulquiorra's tailcoats disappeared behind the closing door. The sound echoed, and Orihime immediately felt her heart become weighed down with worry. She was perfectly familiar with Aizen's stupendous amount of power. In fact, she could not even bring herself to think of the damage he would do.

"So, Orihime." Szayel leaned against a cart that was loaded with large, loaded injections. He watched her casually. "I wish you could see Ulquiorra fight."

"Oh…yes, me too." Orihime replied distractedly. She really couldn't picture Ulquiorra in a berserk state of mind.

"When he goes postal on Aizen, we'll be able to tell." Szayel smiled tautly and sighed. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"I'm alright, but thanks anyway." Orihime said with a slight wave of her hand.

"Okay, then. I'll be just behind that door." And Szayel disappeared behind a metal door that led off into the main hallways. He left it ajar.

Some minutes later, Orihime was starting to worry. She had not heard anything from outside the laboratory doors in half an hour. No one had returned, and the lab was deserted. Her eyes were fixed on the large white doors of the laboratory. And her ears were keen on any foreign sounds except for the sticky silence. Inadvertently, Orihime began to wring her pale hands. Her habit was returning in full force.

But then, enigma came over as the atmosphere plunged.

The air became thicker, heavier, colder; and her vision began to tremble. A low hum was revving up in her ears, and she could not focus on anything. Her legs were rooted on the spot by a sudden abnormal change in gravity. Orihime could not move. Nostalgia, mourning, longing, helplessness pushed all emotions away as they grew within her at an alarming rate. Strange scenes from the past—not even her past—were in the corners of her vision. People, funerals, war, tears. Her pulse took a plunge and consciousness was being worn away by the feeling. Thoughts so sharp became a blurry mass of space. Was it frostbite that made her fingers tingle. And then Orihime began to fall. What was she living for…?

"Orihime!" Szayel shook her hard, and everything snapped back into perfect clarity. Orihime was staring, openmouthed, into Szayel's concerned face. But there were tears in his eyes, and he looked distraught and anxious.

"Did I have a seizure?" Orihime asked. Her spine felt stiff and her whole body was wet with cold sweat. She put a hand to her cheek, and was shocked to find out it was wet.

"No, that was just Ulquiorra." Szayel murmured. "I get that feeling too. It's like you're going to faint, until…until the emotion sets in." He wiped his eyes quickly and was immediately back to normal. "Ulquiorra's released form does that. It kills happiness in others and forces us to remember things we'd rather never think of."

His released form-- what was that like? It was completely unfeasible.

"I see." Orihime muttered, wiping her eyes. "What's his released form like?"

"Oh, scary as fuck." Szayel said casually with a fast nods. He clapped hand over his mouth and turned sober. "I'm sorry. That was tacky of me."

Orihime giggled.

"I feel so stupid just sitting here—"

The doors burst open suddenly, cutting off Orihime. Stark stood in the doorway, panting, clutching a stitch in his chest and sheathing a bloody zanpakutou. But slung over his shoulder was Halibel. Blooding was dripping steadily from somewhere on her face. She seemed to be slightly conscious.

"Szayel, we've got an issue." He gasped, wiping blood away from a cut on his temple. "H-Halibel…Gin…"

Szayel quickly walked to them and Orihime was compelled to follow. The closer she came, the thicker the scent of bloodshed became.

"Oh goodness!" Szayel said suddenly. He sounded genuinely surprised. "Stark, follow me. I'm starting this operation now."

Stark and Szayel disappeared down a hallway, dragging Halibel. Orihime followed, not knowing what to do. She stepped over the trail of blood Halibel was leaving.

"What's the news, Stark?" Szayel asked tensely, rushing around the OR.

"Well, Grimmjow killed Tousen. It was pretty fast, actually. Once Ulquiorra went all out, Tousen became distracted and Grimmjow stabbed him clean through while he whipped up a cero of epic proportions."

"Uh-huh," Szayel grunted, motioning his fraccion over. He quickly tied a surgical mask around his neck and threw an apron on. "So what happened to Halibel?"

"Blame it on Ulquiorra. When he went mental, Halibel faltered, so Gin took advantage of that and decided to slice her up." Stark said. He stepped back a few feet to give Szayel some space.

"Put her there…Verona, get the anesthesia. Keep going. Hook up the EKG; I think she's going into cardiac arrest." Szayel said sharply. "Get Ilforte here, too."

"Ulquiorra's seems to be enjoying fighting Aizen. They seem to be matched up well, but I don't know how much longer Ulquiorra can keep dodging that mofo."

"So, he's not in his released form yet?" Szayel asked, the steady beeping of the EKG joining his voice. He pulled on some gloves brusquely and bent over Halibel, prying open the wound, inspecting.

"Nope." Stark said with a shake of his head. "Just putting a lot of effort into it. Grimmjow is helping him."

Szayel snorted and said, "Quite frankly, I can't see that happening. Oh, Lumina, get my tools out. Seems like Gin nicked Halibel's heart. Also, get me two pints of type A positive blood, stat. Stark, please wait outside with Orihime."

Stark looked at Szayel with such a serious face, Szayel frowned at him. He pried his sword from his side, and tossed it close to the door.

"What's your problem?"

"I want to know if she'll be all right."

"As with all surgery, there is a risk. But I will do my-- Verona, get the defibrillator and shock her—"

Stark quickly left the room and waited outside with Orihime, who was looking up at the high ceilings, lost in thought. Stark stood a few feet away from her, and he was shifting his weight back and forth, sighing a few times each minute. It wasn't annoying to Orihime.

But then a thought, a panic struck her: she had no idea where Ulquiorra was, what he was doing, whether he was alive, and now that she thought of it, her future was cloudy as well. If Ulquiorra didn't make it out alive, she'd be done for. And that that thought brought tears to her eyes with fast intensity, so that they spilled over and down her cheeks. This worry came from her heart, stressed. She had no idea what to do. Unfortunately, Stark noticed.

"What's up with you?" he asked, pulling a curtain of curiosity over worry. He peered at her with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm worried about Ulquiorra." Orihime was surprised to find her voice was steady and firm.

"Ah." Stark smiled slightly, but it was a sad, knowing smile. "Of course, the lovers' curse…well, that's what I call it." His smile shook, and fell off his face. "The extreme concern about the other person's well being."

"Is that how you know you're in love, Stark?"

Stark gave her a strange look. It was so melancholic, but content at the same time. He walked toward her, looking right into her mind. Blindly, Orihime took a slight step back and averted her gaze.

"I don't know," he grunted, a little smirk on his lips. "I just know I'm in love with Halibel."

Orihime watched him carefully. She expected a blush or a smile, but Stark kept a haggard poker face as he said that. He glanced at the hallway that Szayel was in. They heard nothing from the room. Orihime only heard her heart, pounding in her ribs. She wouldn't have been surprised if Szayel ended up having to resuscitate her heart. She felt faint.

"Just so you know, Stark…if Szayel's out before the hour is up, something has gone wrong." Orihime murmured, playing with her fingers.

Stark nodded stiffly and looked at the floor, swaying side to side softly. He rocked with a rhythm of sound Orihime only wished existed. It was too quiet. She could hear the blood move through her veins quickly, as if running away from her own thoughts. She was steady on her feet, but her mind was a bend backward, near its breaking point. Ulquiorra was not so far away, but he was incommunicado. But then, Orihime felt a slight rumble come up from the floor and rack her body with a gentle shivery movement. She took in a breath, scowling, and looked at the door. Something was coming, with reverberating footsteps—or worse, the battle was closer than Orihime thought. But even so, Orihime suddenly smirked as an ominous feeling took over her. An idea struck her.

Her feet, raised on tiptoe, snuck by Stark, who was reading some lab notes that Szayel had left nearby. With her arms out to her side like a ballerina, she took steps lighter than a tightrope walker and passed Stark without a sound. She was traveling to the operation room. What would it matter if she borrowed something?

Down the hallway, with flickering lights and cold air, she went resolutely. Slipping off her shoes to prevent any noise—the click-clacks of her heels—to alert anyone, Orihime slid her feet lightly across the tile, and pressed herself against the wall, no more than six inches away from the doorway. Already, she could hear the EKG beeping quickly and Szayel muttering things to his assistants. In a different language, of course.

Peering around the doorway, Orihime was pleased to see that Szayel was bent over Halibel, hands wrist deep in her body. It was a bloody scene, but everyone was too distracted to notice Orihime slip in and tighten her fingers around the hilt of Szayel's sword. Secured in her feminine fingers, the sword was pulled from its place against the wall and held out in front of Orihime. Her shoes were slung over her arm.

Orihime knew she was doing wrong, but why should she care? It was only once. She had been tied up, with a gag over her mouth to keep her from voicing out. Not anymore! Even though she had no idea how to use it, she had seen Ichigo and others use their swords millions of times, so it couldn't be that hard. Even though it was pretty heavy.

Assuming the grace and stance of a ballerina, Orihime tiptoed back into the foyer. No sound. Stark stood nearby, engrossed in a book about molecular sciences. He seemed to be concentrating harder than he should've.

As glee and adrenaline kicked in, Orihime quickened her pace and skipped to the door. With a jerk, it came open, and Orihime sidled out, cheering silently as she was faced with a dim hallway, extending into darkness.

Torches, faltering, were giving off small, orange light. It shed some life and light on the wall, but the floor remain dark as a crevasse. Orihime looked around her, put her shoes back on, and took off down the hallway at a fast pace. Szayel's sword was tucked into her sash, weighing down the left side of her a body just a little bit. But she would persevere for Ulquiorra. He was in the throne room, fighting with the head of Hueco Mundo. What a horrid battle that would be.

She pushed the thought out of mind and started to pay attention to her surroundings. Orihime ha just turned into a larger, higher hallway with less lighting. Up ahead, she could her sounds. Vibrations from the floor caused her body to sway. At least there were signs of life. But then she heard something that made her take in a gasp and her knees to buckle under her weight. Someone was screaming—talking—in a shrill, pained voice. It was loud, but Orihime could not make out the words. If they were even words. Closing her eyes, she could see Ulquiorra…in a pool of blood, eyes frozen on the ceiling above, without a pulse. That spurred the muscles in her legs to start a run. She ran down the hallway blindly, eyes trained on the little sliver of light up ahead. She felt like she was not getting closer, but she was. Her heels click-clacked loudly on the tile, and she was taking deeper breaths as she ran. But her running was beginning to falter; she could barely stand straight with the violent rumbles coming from the walls and the floor. She fell as a shock harder than an earthquakes shook her and the rest of Las Noches. Terrible screams, furious and incensed bounced off the hallway's ceiling, walls, and floors. Orihime pressed her hands to her ears and gritted her teeth against the horrible pain their sound caused. As it faded, she jumped up from the floor and continued. Orihime took firmer steps and shielding her eyes as the sliver of light came closer. It was within arm's reach. Dazed by the light, feeling her adrenaline sear through her body, she took hold of the door and pulled the stone slab, taking a bold step in, only to be met with a bloodbath. '

Aizen's pristine throne room had been slandered by ridiculous amounts of blood and carnage. On the walls, puddles on the floor, the lives of several rested. Her eyes swept to the right, her breath caught in her lungs. More carnage, more blood. Swords were littered here and there. She began to shake out of sheer fear. But then she saw something even more frightening. Ulquiorra.

He was standing in the middle of the room, his shoulders were squared, and he was extremely tense, like an animal ready to pounce. His hair was mussed his clothing was bloody, ripped, and one hand—his left hand—was dripping blood. But before she became happy, Orihime noticed something. There was something about his stance that was not natural. The collected prince seemed to have lost some of his sanity. Orihime took a step back.

"Ulquiorra?" she said, voice trembling. "Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra straightened up, moving his head to the side slightly. Then, his right hand flicked, and his sword was pulled out of a body, showering the room with Aizen's dirty blood. He held it out for a few moments, and then held it tightly by his side.

He used his sword, and it left the room in blood.

And Aizen was on the floor, akimbo. Several puncture wounds, slashes, and scratches were everywhere on his body. A head wound pulsed blood profusely, and his eyes stared up at the ceiling with no emotion. Surprise was palpable on his face.

"Ulquiorra, you're alive…!" Orihime said with a grin. For a moment, relief took the place of anxiety.

But then he turned around wordlessly. Ulquiorra gave Orihime a hideous lower. His eyes were not the same. They had such fury, such pure anger. His body was too tense to shake with true wrath. He only stared at her. It was an emotionless, cold, and wary stare.

Blood was seeping from the corner of his mouth. He smiled a vicious smile; more blood fell from his mouth. She could see all of his teeth, white and bloody. Orihime felt her body turn to ice as she heard a shrill laughter come out of Ulquiorra's mouth. He turned back around to Aizen pulling him up from the floor with a less than gentle sweep of his arm. He took no time—and bit right into Aizen's neck like a vampire, but with the rage of a forest fire. One second passed.

Blood splashed the floor, and Ulquiorra threw Aizen aside, wading through pools of carnage as she started a slow promenade to Orihime. Orihime shook harder than ever, because she would never forget that. So this was the Ulquiorra the other Espada had spoken about. The cutthroat, ruthless Ulquiorra that took over in the state of need. But Orihiem never thought she'd witness it. And now that she saw it, she wished she had never seen it. Then, she suddenly teared up as he came closer to her. Wanting, watching, waiting to take on Orihime.

"N-No…Ulquiorra…get away!" Orihime screamed. She wanted desperately to move. But she was rooted on the spot with fear. Her hands could not even hold the Szayel's sword. It clattered to the ground, but Ulquiorra did not even glance at it. His eyes were boring into Orihime, and she felt her soul breaking aparrt-- what soul? Ulquiorra had it. The realization caused her to cry out. She had nothing left but a heartbeat.

Ulquiorra just lowered at her blankly, a slight smile on his bloody lips. This was it for Orihime. Death was imminent, and Ulquiorra was saturated with passionate wrath. He was no more than four feet away when Orihime's mind shut down, and she fainted, falling into blood with a splash.

* * *

Hmm, I'm depressed. I have to end the story next chapter. That must be why I've had writer's block.

Buuuuuuuuut. I'm getting my tonsils out in less than two weeks! Hooray!

**Review, because it's almost the end...**


	16. Chapter 16

Final Chapter, 16: Lovers' Epiphany

Not mine.

**Acknowledgements: **

I wanted to thank all of you. Kamitori, my wonderful editor and the person who has hung around reading my story bit by bit. And of course, the person that fanned over Ulquiorra with me for like, twelve hours in one day! I'd like to thank the people who have been following my story, reviewing each chapter consistently. I thank all of you. Those who aren't afraid to critique me have all of my love. Thank you, all of you, for the support. I've loved reading the reviews. **HEY, this is the LAST chapter. SO REVIEW. **

* * *

_Orihime fell with a little sigh, into a small puddle of blood. It soaked her hair and her white clothing instantly. Red was seeping into the white of her clothing, marring its perfect color._

_Ulquiorra was a foot away. He suddenly cocked his head to the side, but he snickered a laugh and reeled his arm back. His fingers tightened around his sword, and he was ready to finish off his lover. Blinded by the fury Aizen evoked, blinded by all of his suppressed emotions, he could not discern good or bad. As he brought down his sword, something caught hold of his arm and wrenched it back. Ulquiorra gasped, and looked over his shoulder, staring right into the furious face of Grimmjow. _

_"Don't," Grimmjow said, panting. Blood was running down his left cheek from a head wound and he was pale from blood loss. His arm quivered as it held Ulquiorra back. "Don't do it."_

_"She is the enemy…" Ulquiorra muttered, wriggling away from Grimmjow. Grimmjow growled and tightened his grip. He swung his arm over Ulquiorra's neck, keeping him in a headlock. Ulquiorra squirmed and made a sound in his throat of annoyance._

_"She's not the enemy, you fucker…" Grimmjow said angrily. "She's your girlfriend! You love her, dammit!"_

_Ulquiorra said nothing, but he began to thrash around. Balling up his left hand in a fist, he punched Grimmjow's stomach blindly. Grimmjow gasped harshly, and his grip loosened on Ulquiorra. He sunk down to his knees, but held onto Ulquiorra by his sash in an iron grip._

_"Don't, don't kill her." Grimmjow gasped. His breath came in choppy rasps. He kicked the back of Ulquiorra's knee, and then jerked Ulquiorra back as he fell to the ground. _

_"But, she…"_

_"Do you love her? Do you love her? You do, don't you? You've been keeping her safe from all of us. Aizen, Noitora, even me." Grimmjow said, looking Ulquiorra in the eye. He was beginning to slow down as blood began to take its toll. But he remained obstinately intense._

_Ulquiorra sat up, glaring at Grimmjow with his severe, blazing eyes. He then stole a glance at Orihime, soaking in the blood of another. Her thin, pale frame was tense and cold—not in death, but in real fear._

_Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were gazing at each other angrily. Grimmjow had a hand over his abdomen, where he was punched, and he looked tired and extremely worn. Not at like the usual Grimmjow. In the next few minutes, he would fall, and become another casualty. _

_"If you love her…" Grimmjow's bright blue eyes were suddenly filling up with tears. His voice started to waver and he could no longer look at Ulquiorra. "Spare her. Don't lose the person you love."_

_Ulquiorra was taken slightly aback. He did not move away from Grimmjow. But he looked at Orihime, and in a flash, he remembered. _

_The girl he met that fateful day, as the enemy. Capturing her between the worlds, promising her life to him and giving her soul to Aizen. The time they finally understood each other, the kiss and the growing affection. She made Ulquiorra shed a tear. Orihime Inoue, dangling on a string from life's safe cocoon, had only come to help. Her red hair, those gray eyes…Ulquiorra wanted to see them again. He wanted her again. _

_With a shuddering gasp, Grimmjow collapsed, blood trickling from his mouth and mingling with genuine tears. His body relaxed and the frown on his face turned to a wince. _

_Ulquiorra looked at Orihime, and reached out to her, shocked by himself. His fury was leaving him. His finger was inches from her face when a searing pain gripped his body. The last thing he saw was Szayel's face, contorted with rage, and the tranquilizer gun that took him down._

Vaguely, softly, faintly, an EKG was beeping somewhere nearby. There were low voices far away. Fabric was all around her, and Orihime's pounding head was resting on a plushy pillow. Light shone through her eyelids. Something around her was touching Orihime, and she cracked one tired eye open, only to see Szayel standing over her, rubbing her hand with something sticky. Szayel looked tense, tired, and livid, but his touch was gentle and slow. He was not looking at her, and he was focused on something else. Out of the corner of her eye, Orihime saw Ulquiorra on the bed next to her, some blood…and then she was out once again.

Orihime was coming to. Consciousness seemed to be seeping back into her weak body. She felt fine—a little tired, a little scared. The first thing she thought of was Ulquiorra, and her near death experience…how long ago? Orihime hesitantly opened her eyes and became aware of the bandage on her left hand. A thin tube of IV was in her vein. She frowned and pursed her lips, taking in her foreign surroundings.

Orihime did not know where she was. She was in a large room with several beds, like a mass recovery room. It was cold—she draped the blankets around herself. Turning her head to the right, she gasped what she saw.

Halibel was lying on a bed. She had a bandage over her chest, she was hooked up to several IVs and the EKG on the table next to her bed was beeping steadily. Her heartbeat was slow and relaxed. Stark was sitting next to her. His eyes were rimmed in red, dark circles were painted under his anxious eyes. His hands were clasped in his lap so his knuckles were white as the sheets. Stark was staring straight ahead. He was completely unaware of anything but Halibel and her heartbeat. He looked like he would snap under any more pressure. Orihime's eyes began to tear up as she saw the graveness of the situation. Taking a deep breath and setting her arm down by her side, she realized she touched something silky and thick—not a blanket at all.

She sat up slightly and looked at what she touched.

Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra was at her bedside. He was kneeling on the floor, his arms were folded on the bed, and he rested his head there, like a disconsolate person in prayer.

Orihime sat all the way up, wiping her eyes and stroking his hair gently, secretly hoping to wake him up so she could see his face. Seeing him alive…he was there next to her. Orihime thought of herself as weak for worrying so much about him. He did kill Aizen, after all.

"So you saw it?" Stark asked suddenly.

Orihime, startled, turned to look at Stark. Stark was smiling wistfullyat her.

"Oh…" Orihime shuddered and felt cold. "Don't remind me."

"That wasn't his released form. Ulquiorra was on the verge of going all out. He almost killed you, you know." Stark explained quickly, absentmindedly taking hold of Halibel's hand.

Orihime nodded, then asked, "Will Halibel…will she be all right?"

Stark said nothing. He just stared longingly at his dear Halibel.

"I do hope so. Szayel said there was a lot of bleeding in the surgery." Stark replied, glancing at the EKG worriedly.

"Oh…where's Szayel? I need to apologize to him."

Stark pointed in the distance with a smirk on his face, before coughing lightly and giving Halibel all his attention.

"I'm right here." A very cool voice said. It made the air a little colder, and goose bumps stood up on Orihime's skin.

Szayel was standing in the doorway. A surgical mask was hanging around his neck, and his arms were folded. Blood was on his apron and he was peeling off bloody gloves. He had a stony expression stuck to his face. Orihime could see the muscle in his jaw going. He leaned against the doorway and snorted, glowering at her.

"Do you have any idea how angry I am right now?" he said in an eerily calm, cold, tone of voice.

"No, sir…" Orihime murmured, shaking her head. Subconsciously, he hands entwined and she began to wring them. "I took—"

"I don't even want to hear it!" hissed Szayel with an angry wave of his hand. "While I was busy with Halibel, you come in and take _my _zanpakutou? What is _that_?"

"I'm really—"

"No, no, here's the issue. You did nothing with it. Not protect yourself, not use it, nothing. Instead, you went and fainted. Ulquiorra almost killed you, Grimmjow just came close to death from blood loss, and I had to leave Halibel on the operating table getting a blood transfusion to come and tranq Ulquiorra so I could save you and Grimmjow. But either way, Grimmjow lost his girlfriend, we lost Noitora, and Halibel is over here between life and death. You have caused an extreme amount of damage." Szayel said with a harsh frown. "And don't even start with the excuses, all right?"

Orihime nodded. It was true, after all.

"Yes, sir."

"That's what I like to hear…" Szayel turned on his heel, and left the room in silence. His footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"Oh my. He's pissed off." Stark observed, raising an eyebrow. "Orihime, don't worry about it. He's extremely stressed out at the moment."

"Right…" Orihime muttered. Strangely enough, she did not feel sad or regretful. She was happy she was able to see Ulquiorra fighting for her. And she was especially happy to have been able to see Ulquiorra finish off Aizen, the man that had taken her from her home. She smiled to herself and stroked Ulquiorra's hair lightly. She looked down at him with an almost dreamy gaze. But then, Ulquiorra's hand gripped her hand. He squeezed it and raised his head off his arms, tossing his head of dark hair so it fell in its natural place..

Hair was stuck to his cheeks. He looked tired, but his bright green eyes held more emotion than Orihime had ever seen. Sadness, love, remorse, happiness: she could not tell. Orihime felt her throat close up just looking at those eyes.

"Orihime." Ulquiorra whispered. He blinked a few times, and slowly stood up to full height. In his trembling hands, Orihime saw her hairpins. One of them was cracked, but intact, bloodied but beautiful as ever.

"Ulquiorra…" Orihime blinked back tears and bit her lip earnestly. "How are you?"

Ulquiorra took in a shaky breath. Orihime watched his chest rise. He came closer, and threw her arms around her as gently as possible. He pulled her closer to him, so she could breathe in his wonderful scent. Orihime put her arms around him and stroked the hair on his head as he rested his head on her shoulder. Tears fell from her eyes now. Words were not needed to apologize. She could feel Ulquiorra's breaths, becoming fast and tremulous. He squeezed her harder and whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you." Orihime said quietly. "I always would."

"After I took your soul…"

"Of course."

"If I killed you had Grimmjow not stopped me?"

"Yes." Orihime said with a grin. Tears spilled over her eyelids and soaked Ulquiorra's jacket. She gave him a squeeze back, and took a deep breath of his scent, making her cry more. She hadn't realized it, but she couldn't imagine living without Ulquiorra. She felt a certain intimacy now, which she had never felt before. It was so familiar instead of foreign, like it had been living within her all along. Whatever the feeling was, Orihime knew it was Ulquiorra that evoked it. Realizing this, Orihime knew she was in love. She accepted the truth and leaned into Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra pulled back slowly, savoring her touch. His hand took hers, and he gazed at her with watery, sad eyes. Hundreds of years of sadness were condensed into the salty tears slipping down his cheeks.

And Orihime looked at him back, smiling. She was soaking in her own tears of happiness.

"You're a strong woman, Orihime." Ulquiorra said. For once, she saw the conservative smile she saw so many weeks ago arrive once again. He slipped the hairpins into her hair, brushing some of her tears away. Orihime was tempted to do the same to him, but she was lost in his warm, knowing gaze. "I am grateful to have been your guard. Aizen put me in this position against my will, but I am very pleased to have been chosen for the responsibility."

"Oh…! I had fun being under your…your protection. But, speaking of Aizen…"

Ulquiorra became extremely solemn once again.

"That I will not speak of." He said rather stiffly. "All you will be allowed to know is that I killed him."

"Ah. Okay." Orihime said with a nod.

"Aizen is gone." Ulquiorra mused soberly. "Tousen and Gin have died. Noitora is about to be killed as well. He was the traitor that told Aizen everything about the shower incident. He even told him about Stark and Halibel."

"I was always suspicious of him." Orihime murmured.

"For a good reason." Ulquiorra said pursing his lips slightly. He exhaled softly and stared at Orihime once again. She watched as he succumbed to emotion, and right before her he seemed to melt. Tears began to waver in his bright green eyes.

"Are you alright?" Orihime asked, slightly concerned. Ulquiorra rarely showed any emotion. He was so stoic and strong.

"Yes. It's the anesthesia." Ulquiorra said with a few fast nods. He looked down at the sheets, and sat there, wiping his eyes discreetly. Silence congealed between them for a few moments. It was a happy silence, however. Nothing was missing between them. Ulquiorra suddenly took Orihime's hand.

"Orihime. I was wondering something." He was boring an intense gaze right into her eyes. "I was wondering if you wanted to—" Ulquiorra paused, and looked around. "Not here. Are you feeling alright? Can you walk?"

"I…yes…I can." Orihime said. She pulled the covers off of herself and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Ulquiorra pulled her up, nodding at her, and he led her to a place unknown.

The ceilings were the highest in Las Noches. Pillars, on both sides of the room led up into darkness, and high on a stone slab, a white throne stood in silent majesty, unmarred by the battle that had occurred below. The throne was awaiting a king to take his seat. The tiles on the floor were slate blue, smeared with blood and bodies, and shone on the dim lighting. The air was cold, smelled of blood, and stood stagnant in the room.

Ulquiorra jumped gracefully, holding Orihime close to him, landing in front of the throne. Letting her go, he took a step forward and put his hands in his pockets. He looked at it, expression unreadable.

"Orihime." He said suddenly, shifting his gaze to her. "I wanted to ask you if…no. Never mind. We're too young." Ulquiorra shook his head and averted Orihime's confused gaze. "We can just wait."

"Ulquiorra, you know I'd be your queen any day." Orihime said, patting his shoulder awkwardly, smiling apologetically. "But I still don't know what I am going to do…"

"You know that you are free to return to your hometown." Ulquiorra said humbly, inclining his head. "I will open the portal right now if you want me to."

"That's the thing. I don't want to leave you." Orihime voice began to quiver and she looked down at the ground. "I've made so many friends here…I've subconsciously enjoyed it here. You know, I wouldn't have met you, and I wouldn't have figured out that life moves on after crushes. I also wouldn't have learned that I'm actually strong in my own way."

"Yes." Ulquiorra said simply, with a stiff nod.

"But, I have other friends in the real world! It's where I grew up, and my brother…well, his grave is there! Plus, I have school to finish up…"

"That," Ulquiorra said with evident reluctance, "is an excellent point, Orihime."

Orihime giggled.

"So, what do you think I should do?"

"This decision is yours. But to simplify it, do you want to be a high school dropout or a queen to a place that is not know by humans?"

"I wouldn't be a high school dropout. I would be with the one I love and I'd be with friends that are forever. What if I return to Karakura town and everyone hates me, or they blame me for Ichigo's death? And the absence of everyone else?"

Ulquiorra harrumphed discreetly and averted her gaze, looking at the stone pillars instead. Orihime could've sworn she saw a look of scorn fleet over his face at the mention of Ichigo.

"If you want my opinion, I think you should return to finish schooling—"

"You're a bad liar!" Orihime said with a laugh, hugging him spontaneously. Ulquiorra was so cold, yet so familiar. Even though each time he put her arms around her, Orihime felt a new sensation, but the feeling over her heart pounding was always the same She clung to his hard, thin frame and wondered what her future was.

"I don't want you to leave." Ulquiorra admitted, hugging her back.

"Then I'll stay! I bet everyone has already forgotten me in the real world, anyway."

"You're unforgettable." Ulquiorra said, giving Orihime a gaze of complete adoration. Ulquiorra's guarded eyes seemed to melt before Orihime, something that kept her smile on her face. Orihime liked to think of herself as the person who can make Ulquiorra submissive just being around him. He rubbed her back continually. "I would miss you if you left."

"Well, you won't have to." Orihime said with firm finality. "I'm staying here, and I don't care if I lose any schooling, friends, or even if the memory of me is washed away. I can't live without you, as corny as it sounds."

"Very corny. But I understand what you mean." Ulquiorra pointed out. He gave her a squeeze, and he made a sound of satisfaction deep in his throat.

The two hung onto each other, soaking in the freedom they had now as lovers. Sometime ago, this would have been completely unnatural, but seeing Ulquiorra had softened up—only for Orihime, of course—this was no problem. Orihime was in a rapture at the moment, and Ulquiorra had a more pleasant air around him than usual.

This was the prisoner that had annoyed him with unnecessary questions. This was the fragile little girl that cried for the slightest things. This was the mature woman that did not flinch in the face of death. This was the person that had given him a heart, and this was the person that Ulquiorra truly loved. He did not know how she had become his shadow, and he would never know why he let himself become hers, but he did know this: Ulquiorra regretted nothing. Orihime gave him more than just her unconditional liking for him, and she was not going to leave him any time soon.

But then, the mood changed. Ulquiorra pulled back, but he stood very close to her, hands on her waist. He was looking down at her, and a faraway look was in his eyes now. He looked dazed and painfully rapt at once. Ulquiorra leaned forward, hair brushing Orihime's cheek.

"Orihime, I will ask you something…" he said in a seductive, heavy whisper. Orihime held her breath as she felt his hands come around and intertwine on her back, and at the slightest pull toward him, Orihime fell into his strong body. She rested her head on his shoulder, taking in his scent. A wave of heat passed over her as she breathed it. "Would you like to be my queen? We would be married as rulers of the great Las Noches, bound by this throne…I would like that very much." Ulquiorra said, gently kissing her cheek. What a lovely sensation…just a touch of cool breeze, and it was powerful enough to make Orihime kiss him right back, shutting him up before he gave her the options she had. Because Orihime only had one answer to this question.

"Mmrff!"

She had caught him off guard, and already Ulquiorra was succumbing to the tickle that was starting in his chest and self control was beginning to falter. His hands broke apart, and clasped her shoulders with all the force he had been restraining these past months, jerking her closer to him. Ardor was burning under his cold skin as he leaned into the kiss. Orihime's back was beginning to curve backward, but she would not break the kiss for anything. Her arms flew around his neck, and her hands were clawing through his hair. And Ulquiorra was clearly not going to let go, but the need for air will get to them sometime. Two hearts bound by fate, burning with the ardent blaze that a spark had become when they first met. The red of Orihime's cheeks, the pounding heart just past Ulquiorra's hard ribcage, and the thrill of fervor as they kissed was making everything intense—from Orihime's thoughts of Ulquiorra as hers, and Ulquiorra's hands, running up and down her back.

Ulquiorra, feeling his insides wither, broke the kiss, gasping a breath quick breath, and Orihime following his move.

"Of course I'll be your queen." Orihime replied warmly, inching closer to his face. Her eyelids were falling over her warm grey eyes in a seductive , alluring way. "Why wouldn't I?"

Ulquiorra exhaled a deep breath and looked immediately relieved, but he still managed to recover from the kiss as if nothing happened. He took his hands off of Orihime and tucked them deep in his pockets, as usual.

"Thank you very much, Orihime." Ulquiorra replied. He tried to show that it didn't matter to him much, but he was quite relieved. Ulquiorra always did that—pretend nothing happened and look like nothing troubled him. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome…" she replied, looking at him playfully.

Ulquiorra took her hand, stroking it with his fingers lightly. His other hand disappeared as he thrust it into his pocket and pulled something out. Ulquiorra sucked on his cheek and said nothing, glancing down at his hand, tightly closed.

"I wanted to give you this." He muttered. Opening his closed hand, Orihime saw her hairpins. "Like our love…these are impossible to break." His shaking hands slid the hairpins into Orihime's shining, red hair. Ulquiorra gently tapped them in. Orihime smiled vibrantly at him, and threw her arms around him. He frowned in concentration, and Orihime watched his face change when he finished adjusting them.

"I love you!" she gushed, squeezing him to the point where she felt his breath hit her as she squeezed it out of him.

"I love you. I'd like if you let go of me." Ulquiorra said in strained voice. He patted her on the back and tried to pull back. He scowled.

"What's the magic word?" Orihime giggled, tightening her grip. Ulquiorra felt a little bit of air escape his lungs.

"_Now_." he rasped, green eyes flashing.

"Magic word!" Orihime demanded.

"Please let go of me." Ulquiorra said firmly, undoing her arms around him.

Orihime smiled at him, nodding vigorously.

"That's more like it." She murmured. Orihime sighed and looked up at Ulquiorra as they walked out of the room. He was watching her out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to believe that Orihime belonged to him—and he belonged to Orihime. He watched her walk, graceful, happy steps. She did not belong in a place like Las Noches, but it was her radiance that had put Las Noches in good humor several times before. As long as she was happy, Ulquiorra would be content. She was his glass doll, and he refused to let anyone touch her.

But Orihime was not so fragile anymore. Se had matured beautifully in the past few months.

Orihime was listening to Ulquiorra's footsteps, rhythmic as clockwork, echoing along the cold walls of Las Noches. She remembered when those footsteps struck fear within her months ago. They were comforting to her now. She looked over her shoulder at Ulquiorra, who looked at her back. He sped up his walk to match her skip, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze.

"Now can I call you Ulqui-chan?" Orihime asked, winking at him.

"If you really need to..." Ulquiorra said with a sigh. He frowned slightly and averted his gaze to the wall. "Ulqui-chan it is." His poker face, serious, cold registered nothing. But secretly, he liked the nickname. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

"We'll stay together forever, right?" Orihime questioned, turning all the way around. "No matter what? I won't live forever like you, but I have some years to go, God willing."

Ulquiorra clenched his hands. The reality had passed right over him.

"Of course we will." He replied solemnly. "No matter what. I love you, Orihime, and nothing can stop me from loving you even more."

"I know. Not even death." She said, skipping down the empty, white halls.

Ulquiorra nodded jerkily, unnerved slightly by her mentions of her limited lifespan. It was true, however, and he accepted it.

Ulquiorra and Orihime were close now. She had planted that seed of love in him, and it grew fast, raging like a weed. It stole his common sense, his loyalty to Aizen, and left him begging for her, his torrid addiction. It was Orihime's fault he had succumbed to her like that. And Orihime. Feelings for him were in her all along, weighed down by her obsession with Ichigo.

Their love was reciprocated.

And the silence between them, thick, cold, molding between them and hardening like glass, had been broken.

* * *

By the way. **No sequel**. Everything that needed to happen happened in A Broken Silence. I might do some fluff here and there, I might do a married!UlquiHime fic, I don't know yet. Point is, wow, I love writing this...

...I'm depressed. This is the end of my popularity on . Ah well. It was nice.

Fail chapter was fail, I know. But I needed to post it and liberate myself from the "omg gotta finish abs gaiz"

Buuuuuut, I thank you all for everything! I've had a great time reading reviews.

I want to keep in touch with you all! Come visit me at www. reverberatingwinds. deviantart. com ! (without the spaces)


	17. Surprise!

Surprise! I guess I just can't rid myself of my love for UlquiHime.

So this story isn't over just _yet..._

I've felt some slight inspiration. So I might add a bonus chapter type thing pretty soon. It will probably be fluffy and sweet, but hey. At least I'm writing, write? (get it? Yeah...) Anyway, it should be up pretty soon-- I can't give you an exact date, however. Either way, it will be up in due time.

Thanks for everything, guys!


	18. The Visit

Haha, it's a bit crackish-- I needed the change. Who knows, I might continue it. But don't get your hopes up.

Enjoy, and please review!

* * *

Mornings were ungodly, so cruel, so evil in the opinion of Ulquiorra Schiffer. He hated the sun, the nauseous, hot feeling as he bobbed in and out of consciousness, and just the idea of having to face another day in what was the desolate Hueco Mundo as its 'King'. Sure, he had the title, but still. All he did was walk around (and wake up early), yell at people, and sit in his throne while others (Noitora) groveled at his feet and some (Grimmjow) fed his ambrosial, delectable foods that he was starting to get sick of.

Well, at least Aizen and his slaves were gone.

At least he had Orihime by his side. That was certainly a plus, no matter how you looked at it.

Ulquiorra banged his alarm clock with his fist, smashing it into pieces. He felt around his bedside table blindly, searching for his cell phone. He groaned minimally and sat up jerkily, resting his head on his knees.

"Oh, you're awake." Orihime said groggily, yawning. She sat up next to him, and rubbed her eyes.

"I'd rather not be. It's seven in the morning."

"Ulquiorra," she said teasingly, nudging him. "it's not that early. Szayel wakes up at four or five."

"When and if he sleeps." Ulquiorra grumbled. "This is Szayel we're talking about."

"Ah…true." Orihime swung her legs over the side of the bed and hopped off, pulling a robe over her shoulders. She pinned her long hair up and sighed contentedly while Ulquiorra trudged to his closet to go put on some clothing.

"Mayuri? I think you should come take a look at this…" Akon said in concern, poking his head into Mayuri's office.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi, captain of the twelfth division of the Gotei Thirteen, looked up from his atom bomb, uninterested. He had better things to do.

"What is it?" Mayuri questioned irritably.

"Aizen's reiatsu kind of died…same with Tousen and fox-fuckface. Uhh, I mean Gin. And there was a major explosion in the reiatsu of that guy, the one with huge green eyes. And it continues to grow." Akon said, frowning. He held up a chart for Mayuri to see. Mayuri's keen yellow eyes scanned it, and then his eyes widened twice their size.

"Oh shit!" he shrieked, standing up. "Aizen died!"

"What the—" Akon took a step back.

"Oh my God! Get it to Shuuhei and Matsumoto! They're got to put it in the newspaper! Oh my God!" Mayuri grinned. "Yes…this is what I have been waiting for…" he sobered while Akon sprinted back to make copies of the proof. "But…who killed him?"

"This is major blasphemy. Like, I'm not even kidding." Soi Fon said in disgust, throwing the newspaper on her desk in disgust. "Aizen can't be dead. Neither can Ichimaru or that blind guy." No one at the Shinigami women's club meeting said anything as they passed ht news around, eyes wide and curious. However, they believed the evidence. It was perfectly legitimate.

"Hold up!" Yoruichi said suddenly. "What if Mayuri purposely made this chart to throw us all off What if he's with Aizen?"

"Don't be stupid!" Matsumoto shrieked, dabbing her eyes with the edge of her robe. "Gin is dead!" and she proceeded to soak the table in her tears while Nanao patted her awkwardly. Byakuya, who was 'supervising' the meeting stared into the distance while his little sister joined Matsumoto in their crying. His eyes narrowed and he hummed pensively.

"Ladies, this makes sense. " He said coolly. "Kurosaki obviously didn't do it—"

"Don't—say—his –name!" Rukia screamed hysterically. Hinamori suddenly got up from her chair and joined them, yowling about Aizen and how much she loved him.

"What could this mean?" Byakuya muttered. His dismissed himself from the meeting—too much estrogen, ugh.

…

…

The news spread like wildfire across Seireitei. Within five minutes, everybody in that perfect little bubble knew about the news of the fallen captain. Most rejoiced, others didn't know what to think, and a select few (women…and Kira) were busy getting drunk and mourning. Of course, those that actually had intelligence and initiative were already thinking of things to do regarding the situation. The captains were all in a meeting, proposing ideas in hushed voices. It was quite surprising indeed—Mayuri was positive that Aizen and his comrades were dead, as in, never coming back. After hours of arguing, a verdict was announced—Sousuke Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, and Kaname Tousen were dead.

Shortly after, the captains held a party. And shortly after that, Zaraki came up with a brilliant idea.

"I say we pay them Hueco Mundo mofos a visit. You know, to give 'em a piece of our minds and stuff." He said, shrugging. "Plus, I've never fought an Arrancar before—"

"Stop lying." Byakuya murmured, frowning.

"Seriously, we should." Ukitake agreed, nodding fervently.

And it was decided. The captains—and anyone else who wanted to come on this vacation—were leaving in two hours. Well, too bad old Yamamoto was chilling out in Hawaii at the time. And, well, who would want to disturb him?

Ulquiorra swung his long, lean legs over the side of the stone throne, wincing as the cold went right through his hakama. He wriggled around, attempting to make himself comfortable. Ulquiorra sighed, and folded his arms, staring at the dark ceiling. He heard Szayel walk in, but ignored him. Szayel was probably going to pester him about safe sex, seeing that he and Orihime were technically married. Sort of. There wasn't a priest in Hueco Mundo, so Ulquiorra was reluctant to make a move on her, but even so Szayel gave him a weird look every time he saw him. Every single time.

"Just so you know, she's not seventeen yet. And you are _barely_ seventeen." Szayel said, frowning.

"I have no intention of having sex with her." Ulquiorra said listlessly. For now, anyway. Obviously procreation was the answer! He wondered what mini Arrancar would look like. He had only seen Nel and few others hanging around. They were…cute, to say the least.

"I don't believe that, but whatever." Szayel said stonily. He sighed and waved a hand, indicating a change of subject. "By the way, your wife—"

"Szayel, don't even go there."

"—Your girlfriend was looking for you." Szayel said testily. He glared at Ulquiorra and gave an exaggerated, irritated sigh. "I don't know why, she just was. Also, we have visitors…" Szayel trailed off and ran a hand through his hair nervously. Ulquiorra just stared at him for the longest time, before he went to go search for his girlfriend, who was probably planting trees outside and dancing with people. Orihime had become Halibel's best friend, and they had been giving each other manicures and pedicures while they fawned over Grey's Anatomy and Gossip Girl…and Taylor Swift. Ulquiorra wondered why he fell to Grimmjow's pleas of decent cable TV. But, it made Orihime happy, so there wasn't much regret in that department. But, Noitora had managed to get past the parental block list so he had a shitload of porn on his DVR. No one knew he was capable of doing it, but whatever. He did it, and he was happy.

Szayel was too—he had taken an enjoyment to science channels and yelled at the TV " NO, THAT'S INCORRECT! Your theory is inaccurate, incorrect, illegitimate, irrational!" Silly scientists…theories are for crazy people! Like Szayel. So for him, it was fun and provided interaction with stupid scientists.

Ulquiorra was wary of the TVs. He thought it channeled supernatural beings that communicated with Satan. One time, Orihime turned on their TV in the morning and some possessed little imp dealios with antennae coming out of their heads were frolicking in a flowery field. Oh, these 'teletubbies' gave Ulquiorra nightmares for a week. Lordy! They were the spawn of the devil, with those damn televisions on their chests…more demon channeling…

Ulquiorra shuddered, and walked out into the foyer of Las Noches. And he froze when he saw what—who-- was in there.

Byakuya, Mayuri, Shunsui, Ukitake, Hitsugaya, Kenpachi, Yoruichi, Matsumoto, Kira, Nanao, Yachiru, Rukia and Shuuhei—that is, the Massive Horde-- stood in the massive foyer of Las Noches, staring at the thin, lean Arrancar that had just walked out of a large room. He had bright green eyes, which were currently wide open in surprise, and his hands were jammed in his pockets. Black hair, dark and wispy, framed his face and fell just above his shoulders. He stared at them for the longest time. The Shinigamis stared back.

"No sudden movements, guys!" Ukitake said. "It might get startled and attack."

"Like a Pokémon?"

"Do you think it's a carnivore?" Hitsugaya questioned, throwing a dog biscuit at the Arrancar and whistling. When the dog treat elicited nothing but a slight frown, Hitsugaya took a step back…

"Nah. It doesn't look hostile either. I'd say it's prey." Kenpachi said, chuckling.

"You idiots!" Kira huffed, stomping his foot. "That guy is the guy that killed Ichigo! He's also the guy that—that—" Kira fell to the floor, sobbing.

"That killed Gin!" Matsumoto wailed, throwing her arms in the air dramatically.

The Arrancar stared. And stared. And continued to stare.

"Excuse me?" he demanded incredulously, lowering at them.

"Whoa! It can talk!" Ukitake exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer, former fourth Espada, presently King of Hueco Mundo." Ulquiorra said coldly, sizing them up. Well, he was still the fourth Espada, but whatever. He was also the King, so that wasn't a lie.

The Shinigamis probably wet themselves if they had anything in their bladders. See, before every trip, bathroom breaks are necessary. Ah-- Digressions, digressions. They were face to face with Ulquiorra Schiffer. Brutally strong, intensely cool and distant.

"Oh! Hi. We're from the Soul Society!" Ukitake greeted. He ran up to Ulquiorra and shook Ulquiorra's hand vivaciously. Ulquiorra didn't really shake back, and jammed his hand right back in his pocket. "We're visiting. Is that okay?"

"No. Leave." Ulquiorra said sternly, chilling the air with his smooth voice.

But then, from behind him, he heard a jubilant cry.

"Mayuri!" Szayel cried. He threw his papers aside and sashayed over to the Shinigamis. Mayuri grinned madly and did a complicated handshake (gang sign) with Szayel. Both looked ecstatic.

"Szayel!" Mayuri said, nodding heartily. "What's up?"

"Oh, everything is up!" Szayel replied excitedly. "I've made some findings in organic chemistry that are perfect for fucking up people's minds! Ulquiorra, they're staying." Szayel said, looking over his shoulder at Ulquiorra. His eyes flashed ominously, and he waggled his eyebrows at him. Szayel was Ulquiorra's self-initiated 'advisor', technically. Because he was six years older than Ulquiorra, that already made him wise and stuff. Ulquiorra thought of Orihime, and knew she'd be on Szayel's side.

"…Fine." Ulquiorra said stiffly.

Mayuri and Szayel were already gone, leaving confused Shinigamis and a pissed off, highly annoyed Espada in the foyer. And then, to make things worse, Orihime walked in holding a blooming flowerpot when she laid eyes on their visitors. Her eyes widened and glimmered with excitement.

"Shinigamis! Yoruichi! Matsumoto! Rukia! Nanao! Yachiru! Ahhh I'm so happy!" Orihime ran over to them, hugging everyone and squealing and estrogen-ing with the girls while the men detected a severe drop in testosterone in the air. To make up for this, they began to talk about cars, girls, boats, and football.

Ulquiorra stood there, ready to kill himself (again). Almost.

"They're staying, right?" Orihime asked over the clamor, beaming.

"I suppose so…" Ulquiorra said through clenched teeth.

"Oh! Meet my husband, Ulquiorra!" Orihime blew a kiss at him and winked.

The women squealed, the men stared at Ulquiorra, and they then kind of herded around him, asking questions with large, curious eyes.

"How long have you two been married?" Shunsui asked.

"We're not married. We're just…"

"Bee-eff and gee-eff?" Kenpachi put in, frowning.

Ulquiorra hesitated, cocking his head in thought. Boyfriend and girlfriend was too loose a term…

"It's complicated." Ulquiorra said taciturnly. He averted their gazes and desperately looked for a loophole, an escape route, so he could go ostracize himself in his library or something. Really…why was he doing this? He had become such a pushover since he took the place of Aizen. Seriously, what the hell? Ulquiorra had some serious psychological problems to ponder.

* * *

I'll be happy if you review! Please this starved author.


	19. Final Note

Hello again!

I just wanted to let you all know that I will be making a multi-chapter sequel to _A Broken Silence_. The last bonus chaper will be the first chapter in Pleasant Surprises. (the title might change). It will already have chapter two when I post it.

You're all such great and diligent readers! :) It makes me happy you still want more from me.

Happy reading!

Here's the link: .net/secure/story/story_?storyid=4751662&chapter=1

If it doesn't show, go to my profile page. Thanks!


End file.
